Pizza Delivery!
by Sulhadahne
Summary: Christy takes a job as the Pizza Delivery Girl hoping to find that hot silver haired man again.. the powerful, dorky, perverted, kind man... who loves pizza. It starts as a crush... is that all it'll be? With Dante, you never know what'll happen! DanteOC
1. Meeting the Hot Guy

_**PIZZA DELIVERY!**_

**Love at First Slice!**

_A heart made of fragile glass,_

_A heart made of a broken past,_

_And if everyone hates and him and fears him the most,_

_Even the ones to whom he is close,_

_How can he find a love that will last?_

_- __Demon Falls in Love__, by C. L. Moss_

Absolutely enraged, fists clenched and heart racing, Christine slammed the classroom door behind her and stomped out. She was completely furious! Violently shoving the buttons on her cell phone Christine frowned and pushed it up against her ear.

"Hello?"

"Madison!" The girl sighed letting go of a little frustration.

The girl on the other end of the line recognized the voice and gasped happily. "Hey, girlie! You okay?"

Brushing a hand through her hair Christine tried to calm herself. "I really need to talk to you. Can we meet for lunch?"

"Of course, I'll be right there. Meet me at that pizza place by your house." Christine nodded and thanked her friend, before shutting the phone and glaring over her shoulder. With thundering footsteps the angry woman stormed out of the building and into the afternoon light.

0-0-0

"Hey, what's been going on? You're really red in the face…"

"Yeah…"

Sitting in the back corner of their favorite pizza place, young Christine Moss sat with her close friend Madison Miller; both were college students at different universities in the city, one studying clothing design, and the other literature.

"Damn it, it's my fucking professor." Christine sighed, wiping sweat off her brow.

"What? What'd he do? He didn't touch you, did he?" Madison gawked, color rising in her cheeks. Christine spared a small laugh.

"No – he didn't touch me." Relieved, Madison sat back in her chair.

"Well, then why were you so mad, and so urgent?"

Letting her head hang, Christine closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "He was being an ass again. He's been an ass ever since I told him his darling Sarah Temple cheated on her written essay. Named me in class, used my paper as an example of 'what not to do', I told him to take his essays and shove them up his ass. Then I stormed out."

Groaning Christine let her head sink to the table. "I don't think I can stomach college any more."

Surprised Madison gasped and grasped her friend's shoulders. "No way! Don't throw away your future because of that jerk!"

"So I'll throw away my dignity and sanity instead?" Moaning, Christine leaned back away from Madison's hands. "I don't even know what I want to do any more."

Frustrated, Madison crossed her arms and tried another approach. "Come on, you've wanted to write stories forever. And you know a college degree won't help you get to writing, but it will help you get a job."

"I just want to write. I hate work." Sighing Christine turned away from her friend, standing to fill her empty drink with soda. Determined Madison stomped after her.

"Hey, you call me here don't walk away!" Madison, though a good bit shorter than her tall friend, took firm hold of her wrist and forced her to turn around. "You're a lazy ass, that's why you want to quit! You just won't finish anything!"

Rolling her eyes, Christine sighed and nodded. "So I never finish anything. What's it worth anyway? Jeez, it's not like college has done anything for me…" Madison huffed and crossed her arms.

"Superiority complex, that's what you have." She frowned. "You think you're writing is better than that professor's."

Almost as if that conclusion should've been obvious, Christine turned to her surprised. "Of course! He's an ass who's never thought any deeper than his silly teenage love stories."

"Says the girl who keeps a bunch of romance novels in her cabinet." Madison quirked an eyebrow. The rage Christine had had faded and a blush covered her cheeks.

"Hey – those – that was research."

"Uh – huh."

Now flustered and unsure, the taller girl huffed and stomped over to the soda machine, shoved her cup under the dispenser and pushed the drink button. She didn't hear the door open over the sound of her own thoughts, being very deep in musing. Madison saw the door open and gaped at the man who walked in. Utterly surprised and shamelessly staring at him with a girly smile, she pulled on her friend's sleeve.

"Christine, oh Christine!" She pulled harder, turning the girl. Her hand slipped and tipped her soda over, spilling it all over her sleeve. Gawking Christine hurried to clean it.

"Dang it, what was that for!" She cried, brushing her arms off with napkins.

"You're the one who's a klutz, now stop it, and look!" She hissed, forcing her friend to turn her head towards the cash register.

As soon as she rested her eyes on the man at the cash register she understood why her friend had wanted her to look so badly. Whatever napkins she'd been holding in her hand, she let go of.

"All right, I want two with everything on it, got it?"

A tall, rugged man was leaning against the counter, waiting for his order. Silver hair glistened in the light over his beautiful pale skin, his rippled muscles hidden beneath black leather. He was dangerous, and twice as much for how good he looked. Christine could hardly take her eyes off him, and Madison giggled at the sight of him. Quietly, nervously, Christine side stepped until she was out of his sight and in the hallway leading to the bathroom.

Madison had yet to notice, but when she went to hold her friend's wrist she grasped air. Glancing around, she frowned and hurried after her shy friend.

"Christy, what are you doing?" Gawking at her friend Madison flicked her hand back over towards the man. "Hello, hottie at twelve o'clock!"

"Actually that's nine o'clock for me…" Christine commented. Madison rolled her eyes. With a sigh Christine shook her head and backed away. "Come on, you don't think I'd have a chance, do you?"

Stomping up towards her friend Madison took firm hold of her friend's ear, dragging her towards the bathroom. Shocked Christine fought back, but for such a small girl Madison was very strong.

Throwing her through the doorway, Madison slammed the door shut, took hold of Christine's shoulders, and made her look at the mirror by the bathroom sinks.

Christine was almost 5'8", 133 pounds, and though tall, very thin. Her pale skin was dotted with freckles on her face, and scars on her elbows, knees, and lower legs from her adventurous childhood. Dark hair framed her hazel eyes, down to her shoulders and unkempt. She was not unattractive, though perhaps not as much an eyeful as her buxom, blonde friend.

"Tell me, what's there not to like?" Madison prodded, putting a hand on her hip.

"It's not that…" Christine sighed and brushed hair out of her face. "Like you said, I never finish anything. No matter how much I like someone… I'm not driven to go out of my way to get them. It's just a fleeting dream, really. Besides, that guy was a total stranger."

Placing a hand under her chin Madison thought on the subject hard. Then, light seemed to flood her eyes and she snapped her fingers. "That's it! It's brilliant!"

Surprised, Christine looked up. "What?"

"I know how to get your drive back! Get your writing better! How to make you really want to live again! How to get you off your ass!" Madison cheered heartily.

"Yes, yes, I get it, now what is it?" Unsure of what Madison was thinking, the brunette was sure she wasn't going to like it.

Proudly sauntering over to her friend, Madison placed her hands on Christine's shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes.

"You – need a boyfriend."

Storming from the bathroom, Christine frowned deeply and hurried away. "Christy! Come on! Listen to me!" At this comment from Madison Christine spun around to respond, but was unable to. Before she could, she felt her back hit something behind her, and she stumbled, falling towards the floor.

"Whoa – Ah!"

Just before she fell to the floor, two strong arms grasped her waist. Shocked by the sudden warmth around her, Christine felt her cheeks flush, quickly glancing over her shoulder to her savior. Madison was beaming.

"Hey, you okay, babe?" The silver haired man helped Christine to her feet, giving her a warm suggestive smile.

Shocked and wide eyed, Christine backed away as a reflex, trying to gain control over again. "Y – Yes. I'm fine." Backing towards her friend, Christine hung her head, hiding behind her hair.

Madison elbowed her from behind. Almost as if she knew what the other girl was thinking, Christine straightened up and spoke again. "Uh – T – Thank you." She mumbled, not looking him in the eye.

The man smirked a little, a twinkle in his eye. "Welcome, babe." As he walked by, the man let his hand pass through Christine's hair, ruffling it a little, before he moved on and walked into the bathroom behind them.

For a moment, the two girls stared in shock. Flustered and surprised, Christine slowly raised her hands to adjust her hair. Giggling madly Madison jumped for joy.

"Oh, Christy, this is fate!"

"His hand probably had germs. Probably really gross… or something…"

"Oh, come on!"

Madison quickly dragged her back into the other room and sat her down. "This is great!" The girl giggled and leaned close to her friend. "Now, listen really closely, I've got a great plan."

"Oh joy." Still fixing her hair, Christine obliged and leaned towards her friend.

Madison glanced around, before whispering to Christine. "This place has a job opening – for pizza delivery."

Christine stared dumbly. "You're kidding me."

"Oh, come on, just listen!" Madison leapt up, grabbed Christine's arm and pulled her up towards the wanted poster. "Look, it's really good pay."

Christine rolled her eyes. "It's a pizza joint."

Ignoring the brunette, Madison pulled her up to the counter, where a young man stood. "Tell her what you told me." She insisted, finally letting go of Christine's shoulder.

The man was a little flustered, but he spoke. "We have a job for a delivery person, and it really does pay well. Almost 4000$ a month."

Eyes wide, Christine gawked at the man. "4000 a month? Bull!"

"There's a reason." Madison whispered, giggling. She motioned for the man to continue.

"That man you saw – he's Dante, the killer for hirer." Christine turned a little pale at this, but Madison hardly noticed. "He's our highest paying customer. Buys at least 10 a week, and only from here. Usually he doesn't come in like he did today – usually it's delivered."

"This is important how?" Christine wondered.

"He's why the delivery people here are paid so much!" Madison giggled. "There's only one delivery person, and they get paid a lot because –" She left the dramatic pause and let the man finish, biting her lip anticipatorily.

He gulped. "The – the last two delivery people – they died."

Christine blanched, even more pale than before. "No way." She backed away from the counter slowly.

"Killed by Dante's enemies in the crossfire of his battles. Or because they were in his part of town. All by mistake, but since Dante's so important, the company still hires one delivery person – and for that price. Take it or leave it." A woman behind them finished the story as she cleaned tables. Christine looked ready to faint.

"First you want me to go back to college, now you want me to work here? Not just at a pizza store – but as a delivery girl to hell?" She gawked, heart racing.

"This is your chance! There's no way that flirt will let a girl like you die! You can see him again, definitely!" Madison giggled.

"And why would I want to?" Frowning, trying to return her heart beat to normal, Christine shook her head and leaned against the counter.

Just as she spoke these words, the silver haired enigma, Dante, came out of the hallway. His pizzas were waiting for him at the counter; he quickly strode over and paid for his meal. Christine felt her heart racing again – for a different reason. Color rushed to her face as he sauntered by, glancing over at them.

"Be careful out there. Clumsy little thing like you might get hurt". He joked with a wink.

Realizing the man was making fun of her, Christine's cheeks turned brick red and the veins on her face pulsed. "I'm not clumsy!" She shouted impulsively, furious. Dante's laughter could be heard even as he left, hoping onto his motorcycle, and with a roar, driving off. Frustrated, Christine ran out after him, calling for him.

"Hey! I said I'm not clumsy!" She impulsively removed her shoe and tossed it after him, missing by a mile. The man disappeared into the night, his engine roaring out in the darkness.

Chest heaving, heart beating, her emotions ranging wildly, Christine stood in the dark unsure of what she was doing. Calming herself, she sighed, brushing her forehead off.

Madison walked out of the store, a smug grin on her face. She'd paid the bill, and in her arms had both her back pack and Christine's. With a smug smile, she passed the bag to her.

"_That's_ why." She insisted, sauntering off to get her friend's shoe. Gawking as she walked off, Christine felt her heart race again. She saw the silver haired beauty in her minds eye. He was… so… so brash! So annoying! So… gorgeous… so unlike anyone she'd met or dated. This "Dante" was different."

"Dante…" She whispered. She liked the name on her tongue. It made her face flush.

Madison sighed contently, shaking her head as she retrieved her friend's shoe. "Here, silly, you want this back?" She asked aloud, but when she looked back there was no one there.

Christine rushed back into the pizza restaurant, one shoe on, one off, and slammed her hands on the counter, a very determined look on her face.

"I'll take the job!"

0-0-0

The museum was empty at this time of night, but for guards and security cameras. Those sorts of things couldn't stop him, not with his power and his abilities. Like a jaguar silently treading through the forest, he sauntered through the halls searching for his prey.

It wasn't long before he found it; the stone, hidden beneath a glass case, pulsating under the pressure of his aura. It shone a deep red, was smaller than his palm, and rested beneath a description of its creator.

Coveting it, desiring it, he felt the power course through him as he reached for it. Slowly, he reached towards it.

Suddenly, the red color flashed, and a sharp pain rushed through his hand and up his arm. Gasping he fell back, clutching the injured flesh weakly.

He got the message; he couldn't have it, not yet. In its present state, no demon could touch it. Only a human could take it from the museum… only a human.

Thoughts clicked in his mind. He'd have to find her… only she would do. It was poetic justice of an amazing scale. Slowly laughter filled the halls of the museum as his plan fell into place.

He would have the stone. The human would take it for him.

He need only wait.

**HELLO THERE!**

**This is the authoress speaking, Sulhadahne, at your service! I've wanted to experiment with romance stories for a while and decided to use Dante for the experiment.**

**If you are a reader of my other stories, I have not forgotten them! I have an upcoming break and I will be writing during that time! I really hope to write another chapter of The Orphanage and my MarluxiaOC story for ORGLUV.**

**This chapter was just a taste, but I hope you all enjoyed it. Please come again!**

**About to fall asleep in her chair,**

**SULHADAHNE**


	2. Attacking the Hot Guy

The night would've been really peaceful and quiet if he hadn't been driving home on a motorcycle. But then, peace wasn't a word Dante would use to describe anything in his life. Not his job, his ride, his house, not himself most definitely. There was no peace – most especially none in his mind.

He felt like he was off his game today – acting like a stupid little school boy. But for some reason he saw the girl out of the corner of his eyes, and sure, he thought she was cute. But thinking a girl is hot is different from waiting until they immerge from the rest room to talk to them. And he didn't even talk to her. He stood there and she bumped into him. Dante groaned and shook his head. Why was he acting like a dork?

He'd never lost his cool around a girl before. So, he had to get it back. That was why he made sure to stroll by the girl and make a saucy exit. But even after laughing and driving off into the night, the girl's protests left far behind him, something still didn't feel right. The girl was not _that_ hot. (Compared to her friend, she was flat as a board.)

Frowning, Dante drove faster. Nothing distracts better than the wind winding like a stream around your body. That and going home and popping one of Enzo's DVD's into the DVD player - followed by a nice, cold shower.

"Plenty of chicks in the sea" he grinned, revving the motor and speeding home, his yummy, tasty pizzas in hand.

_**PIZZA DELIVERY**_

**Love at First Slice!**

_Chapter Two: Attacking the Hot Guy_

When Christine walked into her house at 11:00 that night, she collapsed onto the sofa and laid there for a second. Her mind was reeling with thoughts about school, her new job, and the man she'd seen… _Dante_… Christine groaned and shook her head. She was not going to let a silly, full of himself man distract her. She took the job just to prove a point to Madison.

Yeah – that was it. She was just proving to Madison she didn't need Dante and that … that… surely she was proving something?

Sighing, Christine sat up when the phone rang, reaching over to pick it up.

"Hello?"

_Christy? That you?_

Grinning Christine nodded. "Hey, Dad"

_I got a call from Maddy – she mentioned something about me having a son in law soon?_

Christine groaned and hung her head. "Madison is obsessed with making me date this guy we met today. She's a freak."

_I was wondering if you were still the little girl I knew – always the one to sock the guy in the face before saying so much as hello to him! _

Giving a laugh, Christine swung her legs up onto the sofa. "Yeah, still the same Dad."

_But you know, it would be nice to know my girl's being taken care of. _

"I don't need some foolish guy to take care of me. I can handle my own." She frowned.

_With a pizza delivery job?_

Grimacing, Christine swore to harm Madison the next time they met. "She told you that? She practically black mailed me into it!"

Laughing her father responded, _That's not a bad job for having while you attend school. You don't need a big, full time job yet._

Christine grimaced worse. At least Madison hadn't told her father she didn't want to attend school anymore… "Yeah, I know."

_Well… anyway, Barty called._

Christine sat up straight, eyes wide. "Grampy?"

_He wanted to talk to you, so I gave him your new cell phone number. He said he'd call sometime this weekend. Honey, you wouldn't know anything about Mom and Josh arguing with him would you?_

Confused, Christine said no. "I think they're on good terms…" She trailed off.

_I mentioned your step father and Barty just seemed to shut up; I think they're mad at him for sponsoring my new business. _

"Look, I don't want to know about the family drama, I just want to sleep." Shaking her head, Christine rolled her eyes.

_All right honey… I love you._

Sighing, Christine let a small serene smile appear on her lips. "Love you, dad."

_Good night!_

Christine hung up and groaned, falling back onto the sofa. "Wonder what grandpa wants…" Dropping the phone on the floor, Christine pulled the pillow under her head and made herself comfortable.

To attend or not to attend? School was at the forefront of her mind, a huge problem, and something to dread. With all her heart she wanted to leave it behind forever… but she knew that would hurt those she loved. And it was true; a degree would help her get a job. It would get her more pay. But what did she care about money, security? Nothing really interested her. But she hadn't said that to her father.

Last time she'd mentioned her lack of interest in everything; her father had blamed her mother. She mentioned her boredom with everyday life to her mother and her mom blamed her dad. She tried talking to Josh about it, and as the step father of the family he tried not to blame anyone; he was actually the most help, telling her to continue with school, to try and find a job that really did peak her interest.

She loved writing – but she hated working. Any job requiring those two things together was a bust. She liked physical work, but that got boring eventually.

The best thing to do was to save up money, attend school, and write in her spare time. This at that moment looked like her only option.

Christine forced the subject of school to the back of her mind and wondered about her grandfather. He was rich and lived far off in the country – what did he want with her? It was rare he called her up, unless he'd heard she needed support or if it was her birthday. When Grampy did call, they'd talk for hours. Smiling, Christine anticipated a call from her grandfather, Bartholomew.

After these thoughts dissipated, school came back to mind. A pile of schoolwork sat on her desk, unfinished. Sighing, Christine approached the work.

"Damn it…"

Groaning she sat down and picked up a pen, looking through what she needed to finish. It was all easy, but a large load of work. The only thing to do was to get started.

-0- love me hate me -0-

It took her at least two hours, but Christine finally finished her homework and some work not yet due. It actually felt nice to have it all done – like she'd accomplished something.

Christine had to admit, as much as she said school was boring, it gave her something to do – when her professor wasn't being an ass. Mostly, it was a nice experience – until she let her pride get involved. Sighing, the tired girl looked at her watch. It was 1:34 in the morning, and her stomach was growling. But just as she was standing to get something to eat, the phone rang again.

"Grampy?" She grinned, hoping it was her grandfather. Practically hopping over to the phone Christine grabbed it and placed it on her ear.

"Hello?" Her grin fell a bit. Christine listened, confused. "Already? Jeez… okay, I'll be right there…"

Christine hung up the phone, rolled her eyes, and slipped her shoes on.

"This Dante really must be a pig…"

-0- love me hate me -0-

By the time you could say "Dante is a pig" Christine was dressed in her blue and red uniform, three pizzas in hand, jumping into a pizza delivery cab.

"I look like such a freak." She groaned, trying to straighten the horribly wrinkled shirt. She gave up, put the pizzas on the seat next to her, and drove off into the night.

Since she was good with directions she didn't get lost, but Christine had to take a second look when glancing around for the place. The giant "Devil May Cry" sign was a giveaway, but it looked like such a dump on the outside. Slowing to a stop, Christine shut the car off and picked up the pizzas. But before she stepped out, she looked out her window – and that was a good thing.

Just as she did blood splattered on her windshield and she shrieked in surprise. Hand over her heart the girl set the pizzas down and stood out of the car, ducking when something that looked like a head zoomed over her car.

A horrible roar shook the area, and Christine reached for her mace. But, before she could, the sound was silenced. For a moment, Christine stood there, silently. When footsteps approached, she prepared herself, pulling her mace out of her back pocket… she moved towards the car and placed the car door between herself and the enemy… a form came out of the fog…

"Hey, are you – AUGHHH!!!"

Before the man could blink, Christine leaned over and sprayed him, and then jumped back in her car, shut the door, and turn the ignition. In a flash she was backing up, heading out, the sounds of whoever she'd sprayed drowned out by her engine. Before she could drive off, a hand grabbed the car door, which hadn't shut quite correctly.

"Damn it!" Christine cursed, pulling back out. Another hand seized her can and tossed it away and somehow that hand holding her door was strong enough to keep her car from moving. "COME ON!" Christine roared, and suddenly her car door came off the car and she was gone, driving off into the night.

She kept driving until she was almost to the pizza place, and then she drove off the road, stood out of her car and screamed. Collapsing to her knees Christine pulled out her phone, shivering as she did so.

When the pizza place answered, she screamed again, really, really loudly. And then she hung up.

"Damn it!" She cursed, tossing her phone into the grass.

Her first job and she finished it with blood on her car, a missing door, no mace, and she didn't even deliver the pizzas. What were those things that had been screaming? And who in the world killed them? And that person who'd come at her…

"Come on, think logically…" Christine tried to calm herself as she wiped sweat off her forehead.

She'd been told Dante was some sort of killer for hire, right? Maybe he killed those monsters. So, he was really a monster hunter… she'd always thought there was more to the world than it seemed, but monsters? Crawling over to her phone, Christine dialed Madison's number.

_Hello?_

"I hate you!" Christine growled. Madison, half asleep, moaned in response.

_What happened this time?_

Christine explained what had happened, and how her car had gotten wrecked. She left out the part where she screamed at her phone. When she was done, Christine sat back in the car and waited for a response.

_You idiot! _Madison giggled. _That person you sprayed was Dante! HAHAHA!!_

Christine turned pale.

_He gets in battles all the time. But I suppose your fear and nerves made you think they were monsters… they were probably like ninjas or mobsters or something! _

"Oh yes, monsters are illogical, but ninja mob members, that makes sense." Christine moaned, realizing her horrible mistake. "Oh gosh, now I have to go give him his pizza."

_Remember, thirty minutes or it's free! _With one last giggle, Madison hung up.

0-0

When Christine's beaten, lacking of door, blood soaked pizza delivery cab pulled up in front of Devil May Cry again, a figure was sitting on the front steps. Silver hair drenched in sweat, his coat ripped and on the floor next to him, Dante hand a wet cloth in his hands, trying to rub his eyes clean.

Christine frowned deeply, feeling nervous, her heartbeat quickening. How could she have been so stupid? Sighing, Christine picked up the pizzas and walked up to Dante.

"Uh… here are your pizzas." She muttered, walking up with them in hand. "They – They're free. And I'm uh... sorry about the eyes."

Unsure of what to do, Christine stood there, watching Dante vigorously rub his eyes clean. Then, he threw the cloth behind him and looked up at her, and Christine felt her heart skip a beat when those green eyes looked at her.

"You know, next time someone's worried about you, try not to spray them in the eyes!" Dante told her, rubbing his eyes again. Taken back by his words, Christine frowned and stepped back when Dante reached for his food.

"Excuse me, but how do you expect me to react when I see blood everywhere and then some stranger comes at me and I can't even see? Next time don't just come at me like that!"

Dante was surprised by Christine's sudden response, and he crossed his arms and frowned. "Oh, so I should announce myself before approaching her majesty?" An eyebrow disappeared beneath his bangs.

"Y – Yes." Christine nodded. "I mean, I'm not royalty, but it's scary when all of the sudden somebody's head flies over your car and then somebody else is coming towards you out of the fog!"

"Oh, so I'm scary?" Dante smirked, hands on his hips.

"Just your face." Christine retorted. Dante's smirk dropped.

For a moment, the two stood silently across from each other, Dante's tall form intimidating the smaller girl. Fidgeting, Christine finally sighed and held the pizzas out for him. "I really am sorry." She muttered, eyes glancing at the ground. Dante looked surprised at her rather modest look, and he took the meal from her.

"You know… you could really apologize by coming in and having dinner with me." Dante grinned, nodding his head towards the house. Christine's jaw dropped.

"What? I just apologized! And I am not letting you hold this against me just to get me to do what you want!" She told him, hands on her hips. "And I'm not even hungry. I ate already." So she was starving. He didn't know that. At least, not until her stomach rumbled.

Flushing, Christine crossed her arms. Victorious Dante sauntered up to the door, holding it open for her. Christine stood her ground.

"You haven't even apologized. You scared me to death! And ripped off my car door!" Christine swung her arms back towards her cab. Dante rolled his eyes, as if tired with the details.

"Okay, all right, I'm sorry. Now are you hungry?" Dante nodded towards his house again.

Christine frowned. Every cell in her body wanted to go back to her doorless cab and drive home. She had school in the morning. And it was almost 2:00! But somehow, her feet were carrying her indoors, and before she knew it, Dante walked in behind her and the door slammed shut.

0-0-0

"So, did you always have that pizza job or did you sign up for me?"

Christine flushed red at Dante's words, and thought mentally that the man didn't know just how close he was to the truth. But she didn't let him know that. "I needed a job while going to school, and pizza happened to be simple enough."

Dante grinned and set the pizzas on the counter, lifting the box and grabbing a slice. "So what happened to those two you got earlier?" Christine asked.

Mouth full of food, Dante muttered, "Demons" but it sounded like "Bbemns" to Christine. He repeated the word when he finished his bite.

"Demons?" Christine asked incredulously.

"Those things you saw me fight earlier; Demons, straight from hell." Dante grinned. He motioned to the box in front of him. "Pizza?"

"Okay, wait a minute…" Shaking her head, Christine frowned. "You're telling me that those things… were demons? Like, bible demons from hell?"

"That's them." Dante brought a can of beer out of the fridge. "Want some?"

Christine stared at him. "I think I may need some." Dante grabbed a can and handed it to her.

"Not even going to ask if I'm 21?" Christine asked, popping the lid.

"Are you?" He wondered, finishing his first slice.

"No" Christine took a large swig of the drink. Then she picked up a piece of pizza, taking a big bite of it. Once she downed that, she turned back to Dante with a sickened face. "How do you drink that stuff?" She continued eating the pizza hoping to rid herself of the vile taste.

"And that's why beer is for grown ups." Dante taunted her. Christine made a face.

Dante pulled over two stools for them. "So I told you what I do. You said you go to school?"

"College." Christine told him. "I'm majoring in Literature. But I tell you it is one of the worst experiences of my life." She told him.

"Really?"

"I was going to quit after my English professor used me as an example for the 100th time. But I didn't – don't ask me why, I don't know." Sighing Christine grabbed another slice of pizza. "Is this really all you eat?" She wondered, taking a big bite.

"I like strawberry sundaes, too. That and pizza… or even on pizza!" Dante grinned at the thought, but Christine just shook her head.

"Ice cream and pizza. You are like a little kid – how are you in such good condition?" She wondered, setting her pizza down. "Got anything to drink but this vile crap?" Christine stood with the beer can in hand.

"Soda in the fridge." Dante commented, and Christine walked over to it. "Don't call me a little kid when you can't stomach alcohol." Grinning Dante finished his third slice and turned to look at Christine over his shoulder. "So, you like my condition, huh?"

Christine, how had pulled a soda out of the fridge to try, spat out what she'd been drinking. "What – what makes you say that!?" _Other than the fact it's true…_

"You said yourself I'm in good condition." Dante smirked, standing up to get another drink. He rounded around Christine, who turned to argue.

"I said I was surprised you were when all you eat is junk food! I mean, if you can kill demons…" Christine trailed off, grabbing another piece of pizza and leaning against the counter.

"Jeez you sure think you're right all the time, don't you?" Dante laughed.

"Only when I am right." Christine told him, though a small smile came to her lips. Dante smiled and didn't sit back down, just stood by the counter like Christine was.

"What in the world possessed you to kill demons?" Christine wondered.

"Somebody's got to." Dante told her, opening his beer.

"I suppose it's more than that, but I shouldn't impose since I don't know you that well." Christine murmured. Giving her a weird look, Dante shrugged.

"Keep bringing me pizza you'll learn there's not much to know." Dante smirked.

"I doubt that." Christine smirked. Dante picked up another slice and she grimaced. "Dear lord, how can you eat that much? I'm getting sick just looking at you."

"Hey, that's below the belt." With one big bite, Dante tore his fifth piece in half. "I don't look that bad and you know it."

"And so do you from the sounds of it – self centered jerk." Christine muttered. Dante just grinned.

"Ha! I got you to admit it! That's a start!"

"What? I didn't admit anything! You are delirious." Christine shook her head. "A start to what?" She wondered.

Finishing the slice in his hand, Dante looked to Christine and winked. "The start of a beautiful relationship."

"I'm just the pizza delivery girl." Shrugging her shoulders, Christine took the empty pizza box and threw it away.

"You make it sound like pizza's not important!"

"It's not. It's unhealthy!" Feeling full and sleepy, Christine shook her head at Dante and walked towards the door. "Thanks for the food, but I have to go; I've got school in the morning – hey, is that?"

Gawking Christine turned around to look at Dante's flat screen TV – and the video game system attached to it. Not to mention the games sitting right next to it.

"Brand new?" She whispered quietly. Dante, arms crossed, stood next to her with a smirk.

"Wanna play?"

So began a beautiful relationship – however strange it was.


	3. Annoying the Hot Guy

PIZZA DELIVERY

_**PIZZA DELIVERY!**_

**Love at First Slice!**

_Chapter Three: Annoying the Hot Guy_

_I watched you from the shadows…_

_I watched from afar…_

_It is your humanity I love…_

_Your human heart._

_- __Unnamed Novel__, C. L. Moss_

Needless to say Christine was late to school the next day. She fell asleep on Dante's sofa, and awoke to find his red coat on her. A normal woman might find the gesture endearing and romantic; Christine tossed it off and ran to the bathroom, about to toss up her dinner from the horrid smell of it. Dead demons and male sweat were all over it.

"Dude, Dante, take a bath!" Christine complained between dry heaves.

By the time she got to school first period was over, so the woman just slipped into the crowd and moved on to second, her favorite (not) class. Once she survived another period with the professor from hell, not to mention how Sarah Temple kept throwing looks all over the males in the vicinity. And they were certainly throwing back. It made Christine want to throw up (again).

After all her classes were over, and the world started getting darker, Christine drove away with her blood covered, door lacking pizza car straight to her job, with a sour feeling in her stomach.

"You are way behind on deliveries, you've got two uptown and one near the docks… what the hell?" The manager cut off seeing the car.

"Dante" was all Christine said, and that was all it took. It didn't matter to her; by the time she'd changed into her uniform and went outside, a new car was waiting for her.

Delivering pizza, Christine decided, was not her favorite job. She was beginning to wonder why she'd taken it. Dante was just a thorn in her side, and an arrogant one at that, and all the other customers were either pissed off, paying in singles, or asleep when she got to the door. Plus, due to her late arrival to work, most of the pizzas were late. Overall Christine spent almost one hundred dollars paying for late pizza, which did not put her in a good mood.

At least, she smiled when she got home she'd have no homework to do. She could wait a while before working on her other work that was not yet due; she would instead work on her novel.

0-0-0

There wasn't a time in Christine's life that she could remember where she wasn't telling stories.

From the first moments she could speak, the woman was a story teller. Not the kind of stories she'd get into trouble for; the girl had feared her mother enough to always tell the truth.

Instead, she would daydream often about all sorts of things. A vivid memory in the woman's mind was a time during the winter many years back when a young Christine had looked out the window. White puffs of marshmallow had been floating down out of the sky. Enthralled and astonished the five year old had leapt out of bed and ran outside in her pajamas. The marshmallows were cold on her skin. They tasted like water.

As the rest of her household slept, Christine had wandered through the marshmallow world. The trees became tall licorices that, when licked, tasted rough, and old; the dirt was chocolate that smelt of nature. Skin cold and frozen, the girl had spent an hour alone in her candy world, before her mother, outraged and scared out of her mind, found her. She'd gotten a good spanking and a talking to, but Christine never forgot the adventure.

She'd been adventuring ever since, in all sorts of places. There was a time when the landing of a staircase could be a floating isle in the middle of nowhere, lost and alone. People could walk up and down the stairs past little Christine and her island and ignore them both, but the girl would stay with the landing so that it would have a friend.

As she grew older her stories became less outlandish and more fantasy, stories of elves and goblins. Writing had become her favorite way of story telling (followed closely by photography and video games). And her project, her novel, was something she slaved over for three years.

Closing the door behind her when she got home, Christine immediately dropped everything at the door, and then ripped off her work clothes then and there. A big black t shirt was lying across the back of her sofa. She grabbed it, pulled it on, and ran over to her computer. With a flick of her wrist she pulled up Microsoft Word, opened the file, and looked at her work of art.

Pride and joy flowed through her very veins, and warmed her. All the anger and frustration of the day were long forgotten. The writing was all that mattered.

Christine's novel was an adventurous love story, something she'd seen in a dream many years earlier. A young woman, a wanderer with no true bearing in life, befriends a man with many enemies. It was a story of star crossed love, forbidden love, and the writer herself wasn't sure if it had a happy ending or not. The dream she'd had hadn't been that elaborate.

The last bit she'd been writing had been the Drawing Room scene. In Christine's mind she could see the elaborate costumes, the old Victorian room, and the grand piano in the corner. She wasn't sure what time period her story was in; either an alternate universe of some sort, or the past itself. There was a lot about her story she didn't know. Instead of questioning, she just let it free, and let it fall where it may.

In the Drawing Room scene (as she dubbed it), the main character Christiana would first meet the main male character. Christine hadn't named the male yet, and the female hadn't purposefully been named something so close to Christine's name. It had been Madison's idea; the woman had said the name sound regal and beautiful, like the character.

_Nothing like me,_ Christine muttered inside her head. She shook the thought aside. At the computer, writing, she wasn't allowed bad thoughts.

Christiana was feeling angry, uptight, and was overall in a bad mood, which fit how Christine had felt when she'd walked in.

Christiana was a member of the gentry, not royalty, but from a line of rich businessmen. But, she had a secret; a half brother born of her father's maid. He was only twelve, and being of impure blood, not allowed to live with the gentry. But Christiana, who loved him more than anyone, took care of him, his mother, and siblings secretly.

That was, until the boy was wrongly accused of being a thief, and forced into slavery. Christiana, enraged, had tried to save him, and was unable. So she did what she thought was best; she snuck into the mansion he'd been forced to work for, and freed him. Her mistake? Getting caught.

The "Drawing Room" scene was the scene where the master of the mansion arrived to speak to Christiana about her crime. Neither of them knew it would change their lives. The scene would end with Christiana taking her brother's place at the mansion; a trick Christine was going to use to force both main characters to meet again, and again, until they fell irrevocably in love.

Madison had been thrilled with the idea, but also laughed at the irony. "You are one of the coldest, most unromantic people I know" She had pointed out. "But this romance looks really romantic!"

The part Madison liked was the reason behind the "forbidden" love. The reason was because Christiana was human gentry – and the male main character was a demon royal. Like the traditional romance novels with dark or vampiric males, Christine's male lead was a creature of darkness.

She wasn't sure why she'd made him that way. It was something from the dream, more than likely – something in his eyes. It was – ethereal. But it felt right. Christiana fell in love with someone not human, not caring about race.

_What a big heart,_ Christine thought with a sputtering laugh. _Or maybe a foolish one. _

_Who would be suicidal enough to love a demon?_

0-0-0

It was two o'clock in the morning when Christine's cell phone rang.

She'd just finished writing and had taken a shower, and was about to hit the sack when it did. A little hope shot through her, thinking it was her grandfather, but it wasn't. It was the pizza place – Dante had called in for a late deep dish.

Scowling, the woman didn't bother putting on her uniform, just slapped her hat on, and was out the door. She didn't care if they said anything. She was asleep on her feet.

Plus, she was a little peeved about her writing. She still didn't know what to name the male. It was hard to write about someone who didn't have a name. What was she supposed to do? Give him a nickname and fix it later?

Sighing the woman concentrated on driving. Part of her was afraid she'd fall asleep and have an accident. Her father had done that once, and the idea of it happening to her did not appeal to Christine.

Luckily, she picked up the pizzas (they didn't notice the lack of uniform), and made it to Dante's without nodding out. But she wasn't sure she'd make it back.

She thought about sleeping in the car… and quickly decided that was not smart.

Dante answered the door without a shirt, with a towel around his neck. Even half asleep, Christine was very turned on by muscular, half naked Dante. But she'd never admit it.

"Good. You showered." She muttered, holding the pizzas up. Dante gave her a look.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means your jacket smelled like shit and it needs washing. I'm sure you did too."

He frowned. "Gee, glad my sacrifice was appreciated."

"You had a bed." Christine pointed out. "And covering me in your sweat was not a sacrifice; it should be a crime."

"Forgive me, your majesty, I'd forgotten who I was dealing with" Dante smirked, taking the pizzas, and handing her the money.

"Make sure you don't forget again." Christine returned, counting the money. She turned to go and stumbled down the step, catching herself with the railing.

"Whoa! You okay?" Dante was standing next to her in the blink of an eye.

"Fine, just tired" She muttered, walking past him. "See you when you call."

Dante watched her walk for a moment. He watched her stand by the car door, trying to put the keys in the keyhole. Eyes half closed, she stood there half a minute just fidgeting with the keys, trying to shove them in the hole. She was scratching the door.

Rolling his eyes, the man stepped down, took hold of her hand, and inserted the keys. Christine opened the door. "Thanks" Before she could step in, Dante picked the delivery hat off her head, threw it in the car, and shut the door. Then he took the keys from her.

"Hey!" Christine complained, waking up a little bit. "Those are mine!"

"What kind of a man would I be if I let a beautiful woman drive away in a daze?" Dante, standing at the top of the stairs, turned and looked at her. "You should feel lucky; this'll be your second night over, and I haven't even seduced you yet."

"Yet?" Christine cocked an eyebrow. She moved up the stairs, snatching the keys, and then elbowed him in the gut. "Sorry buddy, but 'yet' is not the phrase."

Dante, kneeled over, smirked through his cringe. "Playing hard to get?"

"Hardly"

The woman walked over, collapsed on the sofa, and fell asleep almost immediately. Dante hadn't even had time to make a comeback before she was out. _Really must've been tired_, the man thought, taking the pizza in. He already had one in his hands, about to devour it.

As he ate, the looked around the room. Dante picked up his red jacket, and was about to throw it over the girl when he suddenly made a face. He brought it closer to his face, and sniffed it, then cringed horribly.

"Damn, she's right!" Dante tossed the jacket away. As he walked off to grab a blanket, he couldn't help but think: _when _isn't_ she right?_

0-0-0

Marilyn Young waited until her husband was asleep to take a shower. She liked crying in the shower better, because it felt like someone was crying with her. Usually she wasn't so depressed that she would cry – but it was that time of year again. The anniversary of the worst day of her life – her first wedding.

Her first wedding had been a last minute thing, a pity decision, something she'd been forced into and something she'd resigned herself too. For many years, out of love for her daughter, Marilyn had tried to make it work. But unmanaged hatred and searing pain had torn her heart apart, and her old husband had been a daily reminder of it. A divorce was imminent.

Marilyn hadn't expected to love ever again. She couldn't, really. Love had been ripped from her heart. But, she still cared. She had come to care for Josh.

Josh had come to her during a time in her life where Marilyn could've died and not cared. And though she could never love him, and though he knew it, he had still courted her. She been completely against marriage, but it had been inevitable.

Of course, it had enraged her daughter, Christine. She hadn't understood why her parents had separated in the first place. And if Marilyn had her way, she'd never understand. No matter how much she asked about it, Marilyn never told her about the divorce, or about why she hated her father, Christine's grandfather, Bartholomew Moss.

It wasn't any of the girl's business. Over time, she'd stopped asking. She come to accept it, and even come to like Josh. It was impossible to not like Josh. Yet, for Marilyn, it was impossible to love him.

She could be his faithful wife, and she could put up with her father. She would do her best to take care of Christine. Marilyn would wake up every morning like nothing was wrong.

All she asked was to have that night shower, that time of tears, whenever she needed. And year after year, anniversary after anniversary, she always did.

Marilyn tried to keep the memories back. But from the back of her mind, his voice beckoned… _Lynn… Lynn… _a nickname that hadn't been used in years…

Eventually she shut the shower off, dried herself, and got back in bed. The memories were still there, but the tears had dried up. The anniversary had come and gone.

But his face was still in her mind…

_Lynn… Lynn… I love you, Lynn…_

0-0-0

Another day of school and pizza delivery went by with many problems and many hitches. Christine did horribly in her science period, but she'd never been good at science anyway. Too may rules, too little time. The flat tire during her delivery route had been the icing on the cake. _Somebody loves screwing with me… _The girl frowned.

Still, she felt very good inside. She could act as mean and irritable as she wanted, but a light hearted feeling danced through her stomach. Christine had had dreams of Dante, shirtless, holding her against his chest… she was very glad she hadn't moaned aloud. If Dante ever caught her in the act of having a naughty dream about him… she'd never live it down.

When she had awoken, two cold pieces of pizza had awaited her for breakfast. Not the best, but at least they were free. But to make up for the unhealthy food, Christine had a salad for lunch.

Of course, she lost more money when she was late to three deliveries, thanks to the flat tire. She was losing more money on the job than she was gaining.

When she got home, Christine worked on some homework, reviewed her novel a little, and was greatly surprised by the lack of Dante calling for pizza. It was strange not hearing from the man. He'd become a routine.

Collapsing on the sofa, Christine began thinking. She didn't think of anything in particular, just thought. That was, until the phone rang.

_Dante, I bet… _The girl sat up and reached for the phone. "Hello?"

"Christine!"

Surprised by the frightened voice on the phone, the woman stood. "Who is this?"

"Christy, it's your grandfather." Suddenly the deep baritone was familiar.

"Grampy? What's wrong?" She began to pace, feeling something was horrible wrong.

"We need to speak; in private. You must come to my residence as soon as possible."

Confused about the sudden urgency, Christine thought about the weekend. "I think Monday's a holiday…"

"Tomorrow, Christy. You must be at the mansion tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" More than shocked, true fear coursed through her veins. "What's going on, grandpa?"

It was no use; the man had hung up. That was very strange, and extremely unlike him. Unnerved, Christine set the phone down and sat on the sofa, wide eyed. Unable to think of anything to do, she called the pizza place and told them she would be unable to work the next day. And then, she went to bed, and took an hour to fall into a fitful sleep.


	4. Saved by the Hot Guy

It was early morning, and Dante Sparda was asleep at his desk when the phone rang. It shook him from his dreams, which he couldn't remember upon waking. That was odd; his night visions were usually vivid, haunting. But it was probably a good thing he couldn't remember this time; most of his dreams were really nightmares.

The phone rang again, so the sleepy man leaned up and grabbed it. "Devil May Cry, Dante speaking." _I really need a secretary for this shit…_

"Hey, Dante!" A female voice giggled. "Remember me?"

Dante chuckled back. "Sorry, babe must be amnesia" _I didn't date this girl, did I?_

"I'm Madison; I was with Christine at the pizza place." Dante's brow furrowed. _Christine…_

_That couldn't be the pizza delivery girl?_

"The delivery girl?" He asked.

"That's her!"

_So that's her name. Note to self; remember pizza girl's name. _"So what about her?"

"Nothing, I just wanted to call and ask you something. Are you free sometime next week?"

Dante laughed swinging his legs up onto the desk. "Depends on what I could be doing."

The girl giggled. "Well, if you're interested, I've got a friend who'd love to hang with you. You wanna take her out to dinner sometime next week?"

Curiosity spread over the man's face. "A blind date?"

"Sure! It'll be fun! And you'll like the girl, she's really amazing."

Dante thought about it for a moment, but it didn't take long. "Why the hell not?"

Maddy squealed. "Oh, thank you! How about Monday night?" The two continued to talk about when to set it up and where to go, and once they were done Dante said goodbye and hung up. Whoever Madison was, she was talkative. How a cynical girl like Christine put up with her was beyond him…

Thinking of Christine made Dante smirk. She was one piece of work but she was interesting. She wasn't even that pretty. There was just something about her…

Grinning the man picked his phone back up and dialed the pizza place. A warm deep dish and a few cutting words from the young woman were just what the doctor ordered…

"Hey, it's me" Dante said when someone answered. "I want the usual."

"I'm afraid we can't deliver it." The man said nervously, sighing. "The delivery girl hasn't been in. She left last night and hasn't showed up since."

Something about that struck a chord in Dante's mind. Perhaps it was instinct, but something felt wrong about the situation. "Has she called at all?"

"Nothing. I haven't got a clue where she is, and we have orders piling up! That girl…" Dante hung up before the rant continued.

The delivery girl… Christine was in trouble. That was what Dante's intuition told him, so he immediately picked the phone up again.

He looked up Madison's number on his received calls list, and called her back.

"Hey" Dante cut to the chase. "Have you heard from Christine?"

"No. Why? Is something wrong?" Dante gripped the phone tighter.

Something was definitely up.

0-0-0

Christine ears were burning as she drove down the country road towards her grandfather's. She turned the radio down as the mansion came into view, feeling a familiar sense of awe.

Bartholomew's mansion tucked away in the country, hidden down a long dirt road. From far away it didn't look like much, but as you got closer it was easy to see its majesty. It was old and in need of repair, but no one came to fix it because Christine's grandpa wasn't very trusting. Christine had spent some time there as a young child, but had gone less and less as she grew older. It had been years since she'd been there; she missed the place.

A serene smile came to her lips.

"Home away from home" She muttered.

Most of her childhood had been spent in the imposing mansion, until her parents were divorced. Her father received custody, and since Bartholomew was her mother's father, and he didn't like Christine's dad, they stopped visiting. That made Christine worry; it had been years since her grandfather had asked her to come visit. Why was he asking now?

Getting out of the car, Christine locked it and headed towards the door. Two trumpeting angels guarded the front porch, and were tinged green. She remembered them from her childhood too.

Christine rang the doorbell, and a moment later, Bartholomew's butler answered it. As a kid Christine had thought the butler was a vampire, and time had not changed her views. He was a creepy old man.

"Welcome, Miss Christine" He greeted with a boy and a creepy European accent. "Your grandfather waits in the dining room."

Christine was suddenly second guessing her visit. Something felt wrong about it all…

Still, she stepped into the mansion, almost expecting to catch on fire when she crossed the threshold, or for monsters to leap out of the shadows. But, there were no demons like those from the alleyway; there was only old artwork of angels and Greek Gods lining the walls.

"How is Grampy?" Christine asked, trying to break the creepy silence as the butler took her jacket.

"In good health." He replied.

"That's good to know…"

The front halls had always been like a maze, with towering statues at every corner. Somehow the butler knew the way, quickly leading Christine past a slightly nude statue of Artemis, beyond another statue of a man and an angel wrestling, until they finally reached the dining room.

Like all the other rooms in the manor, it was enormous, rich, and imposing. It made Christine feel slightly ill, as if she suddenly had to be on her best behavior.

A long shining table stretched out before her, and to one side a fire crackled in the fireplace. At the end of that long table sat an old man, small, yet not frail nor weak.

With burning eyes he looked up from the newspaper he was reading, and he looked at Christine. The woman's spine trembled. Grampy… seemed different.

He'd always been kind, fatherly to her when she was young. But now… Bartholomew was almost enraged, and she'd only walked through the door.

"Grampy?" Christine muttered. "You all right?"

In a moment he blinked, and the fiery anger was gone. "Christine!" Laughing the old man stood, coming up to about Christine's midsection. He approached her, a soft smile on his face. In his left hand was a cane. "It's been so long. You're a young woman now."

"Hasn't been that long gramps". Christine smiled. She felt a little more at ease. Still… she knew something was wrong.

The older man laughed again, hugging Christine when he reached her. Then he leaned back and examined her face. "You look more like your mother every day."

"Thanks" She smiled. Bartholomew motioned to the table.

"Hungry? I had Aaron prepare your favorite; chicken parmesan." He approached his chair again. "I hope that's still your favorite."

"It is thanks." She smiled, sitting at the nearest chair. In a mere moment the creepy butler Aaron was in front of her, placing her meal down. It was unsettling. _He's like a shadow…_

The mansion had certainly grown darker over the years.

0-0-0

Dante was still on the phone when he mounted his bike.

"So, mysterious call from grandpa, then she goes missing?"

"Yeah." Madison said on the line as Dante cranked the vehicle. "He calls all the time, but Chris hasn't actually been to his house in years. Well, okay, it's not a house, but whatever! It's really weird."

"And where would this house that's not a house be?" Dante asked into the phone.

"Outside of town, if you go down the interstate –"

And they were off, Dante on his bike, and Madison guiding him. The silver haired demon hunter had no idea what he was doing. Just because a standoffish woman suddenly visits family does not mean she's in need of help.

But something was off… and Dante always trusted his instincts.

The real question was why he was sticking his neck out anyway. This woman was likely to just give him a headache instead of thanking him for rescuing her.

After getting directions from Madison and hanging up, Dante tucked his phone away.

"I need to get laid." He muttered.

0-0-0

Dinner was awkward.

Usually it was so easy to talk to Grampy over the phone, but he was being rather quiet, even standoffish. It made Christine uneasy. Still, she didn't say a word; she knew better, and decided to be polite instead. But each time she tried talking to him, he seemed to not listen, like he was distracted.

Finally, ignoring propriety, Christine simply asked, "Grandpa, is everything all right?"

For the first time that evening her grandfather looked her in the eye. "I'm easy to read aren't I?" He chuckled. Christine did as well, but in truth it was forced. This was all creepy, and Grandpa was as easy to read as a picture book.

"There must be a reason you called me. Is it... mom?" Christine wondered, slightly worried.

The old man sighed. "No, its not your mother." He dabbed his lips with his napkin, sighing again.

"I'm afraid I've kept some secrets these past years." Grandpa muttered. "And until now, they haven't mattered. But now I fear for your safety."

Christine's over active writer's imagination immediately made her think of the mafia or a crime gang; she had images of dead bodies in the basement... was that how Grandpa could afford all the fancy artwork?

Almost as if he saw the thoughts on her face, Grandpa Bartholomew laughed. "No, its nothing so serious. Well, not of the kind you are thinking of." He stood, approaching his granddaughter. "Shall we talk of it in the garden?"

With no reason to say no, Christine agreed, though with each passing moment she felt even more sick to her stomach.

0-0-0

As soon as he saw the Mansion at the end of the driveway, Dante was glad he'd come. It reeked of demon filth. Or at least... remnants of it. As if someone had been killing them off. But what demon hunter lived in far country like this?

And now that he thought about it, as Dante dismounted his bike, it was weird that demons would attack a mansion like this. At most, there was the owner and the servants living in the house. Very few people, in comparision to the city. So why attack here?

And who was killing them?

With a dark grimace, the man approached the front door, and without knocking, went on in.

0-0-0

A few minutes later, after traversing the art filled, rich hallways, Christine and her grandfather sat in the backyard beneath a weeping willow, in front of a stone mermaid that sat in the center of a pond, and spewed water from its mouth.

"What's going on, grampy?" Christine asked, almost fearing the answer.

The old man sat down by the fountain, and beckoned her daughter to sit beside him.

"I've angered some powerful beings."

This sent a chill down Christine's spine, and she frowned. "Beings?" That didn't sound right. "You don't mean people?"

Her grandfather looked at her meaningfully. "I meant what I said."

He let that sink in for a moment.

"So..." She frowned. "They'll target me to get to you." The man nodded.

"That's why I want you to stay here. You'll be safer here."

Somehow Christine doubted it, but then she realized her grandfather did have many secrets. Perhaps the mansion would be safe. But even if it was, she didn't want to stay there.

Then she remembered. "I'll be fine." Comforting, she smiled at him. "There's someone in the city, really strong. He owes me a favor." Not true, but she'd find a way. "He can protect me."

Her grandfather seemed kind of suspicious. He cocked a brow. "And who is this man?"

"This guy I met through work. His name's Dante."

At the sound of his name, Bartholomew stood, his eyes alight with fire.

"Dante? Dante Sparda?" He asked, his voice thick with rage.

Surprised, Christine stood. "I dunno - I don't know his last name -"

"It's sure to be him. Damn it all! He's a monster! You stay away from him?"

This was another surprise. Sure, Dante was a smart ass, and somewhat a lecher, but he seemed like he had a good heart. Seriously, she'd sprayed him in the eyes with pepper spray and he didn't hate her. Where did grampy come across calling him a monster?

In fact, it angered her. She didn't know why, but she was defensive of the man. "What are you talking about? His one of the nicest guys I know! He saved my life."

Sneering, her grandfather glanced back and snapped his fingers. Two big brutes showed up and moved towards her, and Christine backed up.

"I'm sorry sweetheart, but its best if you don't leave. I can't let you get hurt." Her grandfather insisted, his eyes hard.

Christine's eyes hardened too. "The only one I'm seeing trying to hurt me is you!"

Then she spun around and ran towards the house.

0-0-0

The house was like a museum. It was almost empty, and very creepy. Dante stepped through the front hall, glancing around. The lack of bodyguards was strange.

Then, with his powerful hearing, he heard a shout far away.

"FUCK OFF!"

0-0-0

Christine wished she were more athletic. Need pushed her, and she turned a corner in the hallway. It was a dead end, but a stairwell was nearby. She raced up it.

This was strange situation indeed. Though she could hardly think about it, because she was being chased by two giant meatheads, Christine knew this was out of character for her grandfather. The entire night had been out of character. Had she ever really known him?

The thundering steps of her pursuers ringing in her ears, Christine raced out across the hall, which had a balcony that looked over the front hall. A loud whistle came from below.

Christine slid to a halt and looked down. Below, the handsome hunter was waving at her with a smirk.

"Need some help?" Dante asked.

"Yeah. Catch me!" Then Christine jumped over the rail, plummeting towards Dante. Luckily he did catch her, just as the flunkies ran to the balcony.

"And now we run!" Christine tried to leap out of Dante's arms and run towards the door, but he held her tight and ran with her in his arms. "Hey! I can run!"

"It's faster this way." But the grin on Dante's face said he just wanted to annoy her. But seeing as Christine cared more about escaping at the moment, she let it slide.

"So what'd you do to piss these guys off?" Dante asked as they raced to his bike. He set her down and jumped on, and she got on behind.

"Told em I knew you." She said. Dante laughed.

"Nice." He reeved the bike just as the goons and Christine's grandfather stepped into the yard.

"STOP!" Bartholomew shouted, but Dante was off, his bike roaring down the path. Christine's car was long forgotten.

0-0-0

"You are a lot of trouble." Dante told her over the loud winds blowing by.

"It's all your fault. For some reason he doesn't really like you."

Dante smirked, cocking his head. "I couldn't see why not."

Christine rolled her eyes. "He told me I was in danger and I said you'd protect me, then he flipped and tried to imprison me."

Dante glanced behind at her. "Babe, I don't mind helping once or twice, but I need to get paid if I'm going to be somebody's bodyguard."

Once again Christine's eyes rolled. "I was just trying to placate him. It didn't work."

"Really? I hadn't noticed." Frowning, Christine would've hit him if her arms had been wrapped around his waist (which felt very nice; he had such a strong back).

"One of these days I'm going to beat you for that mouth."

"If your into that sweetheart." He winked back at her, and she flushed again. He was such a nuisance.

And so the strange duo rode back into town, not noticing that they were being followed.

0-0-0

Bartholomew was in the sitting room. His butler approached with a cup of tea.

"I can't lose her too." Bartholomew whispered to him.

"Unlike her mother, she has a level head. She will not make the same mistake."

"The heart makes mistakes that the head has no way to stop." He knew this was true, as he had once done the same. It had ruined him, and his family. There was no going back now.

"What are your orders?" The butler asked.

For a moment he was quiet.

"My granddaughter is in danger." He muttered. "Kill those who threaten her. Human or otherwise."

The man bowed.

"As you wish."

0-0-0

About an hour later and the two were back in the city, and a while after that, they were out front of the Devil May Cry building.

Confused, Christine stared at it as Dante shut the bike off. "This isn't my house."

"You said you wanted protection. And no better protection than living with the bodyguard." Dante said straightforward.

"Wa - wait! You said I had to pay. I don't have money for a body guard." _ Not when I'm just a delivery girl._

"But your presence is payment enough." The way he said it revealed it to be sarcastic. Christine cocked a brow.

For a moment both were quiet; Dante leaning against his door nonchalantly, and Christine staring at him with her arms crossed.

"Could we survive living together?" She asked with a laugh.

"Think of it as a challenge." The man told her, and she nodded.

"That it certainly will be."

"Glad you accept. Cause I certainly don't want to stay at your place." He turned around and walked inside, shivering. "I might get _cooties_."

"You're an ass."

Christine walked in just as Dante got a beer out of the fridge. "When can I get my stuff?"

"I'll take you tomorrow." He moved to his desk and collapsed into his chair. "You do have tomorrow off right?"

School, yes, she didn't have to go, but work? "I have to work."

"Actually, you don't." Dante frowned a little. "I called your work, and when you didn't show up today they fired you. Sorry."

Groaning, Christine headed to the fridge to look for food. "That's wonderful."

Then, Christine realized something. Hadn't she gotten the job hoping to see Dante more? And now she was living with him. If that didn't including seeing Dante, then what would? She didn't need the job anymore. So that was fine.

"Hey, you'll be fine. Maybe you could be my secretary."

"You need a maid more than a secretary." Seeing nothing she wanted to eat or drink in his fridge, she settled for a glass of water. "And tomorrow you are taking me shopping."

"Wonderful. Why'd I offer you shelter again?" He muttered.

For once, Christine smiled at him. "Cause you're a nice guy."

Surprised, Dante looked her over as she sat down. "What's the change of attitude?"

Now she was a little embarrassed. Maybe she shouldn't have said anything. But she wasn't one to back down, so she shrugged and explained. "You are. You've said me twice, and for all your smart talk you seem to care." She glanced up at him, and saw he seemed to be thinking it over. So she continued.

"I told my grandpa that, and he told me to stay away from you. He... called you a monster." Her grip on her drink tightened. "It pissed me off. I may not know you well, but from what I've seen you're not, and he didn't have the right to call you that."

"I am though." He muttered. Christine glanced up at him. He had a subdued look about him, for once.

"You are what?"

Dante waited for a moment. "A monster." Confused, Christine listened intently. "Those demons I fight... I'm one of them."

He looked her in the eye.

"I'm a half demon."


	5. Comforting the Hot Guy

A demon.

That was what her grandfather had meant. Dante was a demon. Or, half demon he had said.

Christine's hand trembled, and the drink in her hand fell to the floor with a loud clunk. At the sound of that, Dante hung his head. All was quiet, until Dante's chair scooted back, and he stood, and left the room.

0-0-0

_You shouldn't have said anything._

A terrible grimace came across his handsome face. He never told people about his heritage, and especially not someone he'd just met. Why had it slipped out? Why? Whatever chance he'd had with her was out the window. He could kill himself at the moment.

With a groan, he fell back against the wall and hung his head. For once he wanted to be in a relationship with someone who wasn't paid. Heck! He wanted to actually know a girl. To love her. And he had thought, maybe, Christine would give him the chance.

But dropping the "demon" bomb on her so soon probably killed any chances. Dante could almost cry. But devils don't cry, he thought bitterly, and instead he clenched his fists.

0-0-0

Christine touched her cheek with her trembling hand. Then she cursed herself. Instinct had taken over, reminding her of her few encounters with demons. Scaring the crap out of her. And of course, Dante had left, likely insulted. She immediately felt guilty, and stood to chase after him, to apologize.

Then she stopped.

Had it been yesterday? Or the day before? She had been writing at her computer, thinking that her main female character was probably foolish for falling in love with a demon. That demons likely were not good companions. Christine had been thinking how foolish it would be to care for something that was inclined to kill.

And now... she was rushing after Dante. Her heart hurt for him, and she barely knew him. Such a quick change, and she'd hardly noticed the change happening.

But now whatever instinct told her "demon bad, human good" had been silenced. So far Dante had only helped her; he'd put up with her, saved her life, even given her a place to stay so she'd be safe. She owed him. And she certainly didn't want to insult him.

So she hurried down the hallway and up the stairs after him.

The girl was surprised to see him leaning against the wall, looking angry and dejected. He didn't seem to notice her at first.

Guilt made Christine's heart plummet, and she suddenly did something she never would've done in normal times. She hugged Dante.

The man seemed just as shocked as Christine was; she couldn't believe she was doing it. But she couldn't let him think that his race meant anything to her. Dante was warm to the touch, and his abs didn't just look rock hard, they were. But Christine tried not to think of that.

"I don't care what you are and you shouldn't either. Don't sulk about it. You can't change it." Christine realized her past comments of Dante needing a bath were wrong; he smelled very nice. A sweet aroma of masculinity, leather, and ironically, pizza.

Dante wasn't sure what to think. His heart was beating fast and the blood was racing through his veins. Why did this girl have such an effect on him? And why did her acceptance make his heart sing? He smiled, leaning his chin onto the top of her head.

Christine stiffened at the touch, but didn't flinch away. Breathe in. Breathe out. She didn't need to freak out, it was just a hug, just a hug with a really attractive, nice guy who had saved her life, and he was putting his arms around her waist...

"Sorry for dropping that one on you." Dante said.

"What? The demon thing?" Christine shrugged, moving slightly in his arms. "I said it doesn't matter."

"You're kidding? Half the world would disagree with you."

Christine chuckled. "More than half. And the world and I never agree much anyway." Dante chortled at that. Holding him while he laughed, his chest vibrating, felt kind of nice. Comforting.

But all good things must end and eventually they two let go of one another. As they did, Dante smirked at her. He shook his head, as if repelling something.

"What?" Christine wondered. Dante just looked at her again, chuckling, and walked away. "What!?" She demanded, suddenly afraid something was wrong. Was her shirt inside out? Was there food on her face? The man just kept chuckling as he walked away.

"You hungry?" he asked, turning around to look upstairs. "Let's order pizza."

0-0-0

Dinner was hilarious. Christine hadn't ever laughed so much, even with Madison. Somehow the scene from earlier had made the both of them relax more around one another. Likely it was because Dante felt more accepted, and Christine felt more trusted. After dinner they played videos games, mainly competitive ones so they could argue back and forth. It was like a drug for them.

Later came the decision of who would sleep where.

"You can take the bed. It'll be the first time a woman's ever slept there without me." Dante winked at her and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm not gonna kick you out of your own bed."

"Well I won't put you on the sofa." Dante told her.

Christine glared at him.

"I've got an idea." She smirked.

0-0-0

Dante's bed had been cut in half by a wall of pillows, most of which had been removed from the sofa. On each side was situated one person; on the left, Dante, sleeping shirtless, and on the right Christine, who was wearing her own clothes still.

"How innovative." Dante complained. "You managed to leave me no room at all without even taking up the space yourself. Genius."

Christine frowned. "I have a cousin who always spent the summer sleeping in my bed. She was a spazz who always had to have this wall of pillows between us. That gave me the idea."

"Did she sleep on the edge of the bed, too?"

Christine shoved one of the pillows over the edge so that it fell on Dante's face.

The man sat up, smirking at her. "You looking for a fight?"

The girl laughed. "What, a pillow fight? The great Dante? You're kidding me."

He sobered a little, and laid back down. "My brother and I had them as kids. Kinda funny actually."

"Why is that?"

"We never really got along once we grew up."

Christine understood. "Happens a lot with siblings."

Sometime after that the two became quiet, and Christine drifted off to sleep.

0-0-0

Some point in the night Dante left, and Christine awoke to an empty room.

She promptly shoved the wall of pillows aside and took the whole bed for herself. The pillow that Dante had used she tucked under her head, taking in the scent. For a while she drifted between sleep and consciousness.

Perhaps an hour later she woke up when a pillow hit her head. Sleepily, she sat up and glared daggers at Dante.

"Hey!" She spat.

"Hey. My spot." Dante pointed out, removing his jacket.

"You left." Christine pointed out, but she let him have it, backing away. She collapsed on the remnants of the pillow wall.

Dante then fell back on the bed. "Duty calls. When demons attack, I kick their asses, no matter the time of day."

"Poor baby." Dante chuckled.

Dante fell asleep quickly, but Christine was finally awake. She got up, looking over her friend with a smile. Then she left the room.

She needed to go to her house, and then some shopping needed to be done. First, she'd call Madison. Her friend would be eager to hear any news about the "Dante" situation. Thinking of last night made Christine smile, and blush in a shy, yet happy school girl way. Grabbing a piece of paper off of Dante's desk, she wrote a note to him, left it on the counter near an empty beer bottle, then pulled out her cell phone.

0-0-0

"You two are such a cute couple!" Madison squealed as she and Christine entered the grocery store.

Christine rolled her eyes. "Speak louder, Madison, I don't think the people three aisles over heard you." Madison smacked her arm.

"And about that grandpa of yours... what was that about his being a sweet old man?"

Sighing, Christine shrugged. "I thought he was. Guess I was wrong." She shuddered. "I wonder who it is that's after him."

"Hopefully the police." Madison muttered. Christine pulled a jug of milk out of the freezer and put it in the cart.

"No. Well... ai yai yai. I don't know. Surely he was doing what he thought was right..."

"Locking you up." Madison pointed out dryly, motioning to her friend with a loaf of bread. Christine took it from her and put it in the cart.

"To protect me." She defended.

"From your friend, and potential lover, who he called a monster." Frowning, Christine sighed.

"Yeah, there was that..." Christine had told Madison everything about the night before, except for Dante being a demon. She had talked about the "fight", for lack of a better term, but had not elaborated on what it had been about.

Madison grabbed a bag of potato chips and tried to put them in the cart, but Christine vetoed it. "Ah ah!" She set them back on the shelf. "Dante's unhealthy enough with his pizza and ice cream."

Two hours later they were finally done, and Christine had all the supplies she'd need to fill Dante's kitchen with real food. Most of it was healthy, lacking in partially hydrogenated anything, and it all passed Christine's health criteria. Except for soda. But she figured she had to have something good tasting to drink that wasn't beer.

From there, they went to Christine's apartment. "Just wait out here, I'll only be a minute." Christine told her friend.

Madison nodded, turning up the radio as her favorite CD played. Christine disappeared into her apartment.

Once inside, the girl went to her closet and grabbed a black duffel bag. She hauled it to her room to fill with clothes and necessities.

Dancing to the tune by shaking her head, Madison didn't hear someone tap on the car window. The second time it was louder, and she looked up.

There stood Dante, dressed and awake. He waved, and grinning, Madison rolled down her window.

"If you're looking for Christine, she's within." She waved her hand towards the apartment building.

"Why, thank you."

Meanwhile, Christine was busy packing. She grabbed her face wash and tooth brush, female supplies, clothes, a book or two, and some other things she thought she'd need. While she packed she thought of her novel.

Her demon male character was taking shape in her mind... she'd spent her morning imagining him when she'd been half asleep in bed. Now she was trying to think about how to write his entrance. It was very important. He needed to be somewhat suave... yet distant. Elegant, yet grating. In other words, he had to be someone that her main character Christiana would want, but who wasn't perfect, and had some issues.

Suddenly it hit her. She already knew someone likable, yet totally annoying...

She could base her main character off of Dante! Hell, she could use his name. She needed a name.

Though there was the problem of her main female having a name similar to hers. Someone could look at it and think she was inferring that she liked Dante, which she did, but that was besides the point.

Then again, the only one she didn't want to see it was Dante. But Christine doubted that he ever read books, if he could even read. Should she risk it?

With the idea fresh in her mind, Christine set her bag of things by the door and went to the computer. She had wanted to take some of her chapters with her to his place, so she could write. Some of them were already on thumb drives, she simply hadn't moved her most recent chapter to one. Now, before doing so, she was going to add something.

_Christiana's eyes were wandering the room, in an attempt to keep herself distracted. If she focused on the task at hand... on the footsteps coming down the hallway, slowly, she might lose her composure and race from the room. She was desperately afraid, afraid of the moment when the Lord would walk through the doors into the room, his cold eyes focused on her..._

_But when he finally did enter the room, walking with a graceful, slow gait, Christiana did not feel at all as she had supposed she would. Her dread melted away and was replaced with a fiery wanting. He was beautiful. Tall, muscular, and well dressed, with a pale, smooth face, and blue eyes as deep as the ocean. He was divinity, and did not look at all demonic or monstrous as the townspeople had said._

_Perhaps they had been wrong. Maybe the Lord was kinder, softer, than the ordinary people had believed._

_The Lord approached her, and bowed slightly. "You are my uninvited guest, I take it?" Christiana blushed at that, then nodded._

_He looked her in the eyes, and Christiana was lost. "I am Lord Dante."_

A moment after writing it, Christine sat back, read it, and huffed. "It sucks." But she put her chapter on the flash drive anyway, planning to change it later. Sticking the flash drive in her bag, she moved towards her room to grab a few more things. Then, behind her, the door opened. She spun around.

"You?" Christine saw Dante in the door and was surprised. The man chuckled at her.

"Yeah, me. You've been busy." He moved into the apartment, glancing around. "Nice place."

"Flattery will get you no where." The girl disappeared into her room, the door slamming behind her.

As Dante walked around, looking at her drab apartment, he examined her stuff. First, her movie collection. Most of it, he was glad to see, was either a violent movie, a horror film, or a violent horror film. That was a good sign; they'd never argue on movie night.

Then he moved towards her video game collection. There was some stuff he'd never heard of, but most of it didn't look half bad. But he did laugh when he saw a few badly made Yu-Gi-Oh spinoffs for the PS2.

"What's so funny?" Christine walked out of her room and stared at him. Dante held the game up. "Hey, it was my favorite show as a kid."

"It wasn't around when you were a kid." Dante pointed out.

"Kid, teenager, whatever. Shut up." Dante returned the game to the shelf and moved to Christine's computer. Sadly for her, the word document was still on the screen, right in front of the man she'd hoped would never read it. He scanned the top few paragraphs, sitting down to read the whole thing.

Meanwhile Christine was getting a few last things; her address book, her cell phone, and then she started checking to see if she'd missed anything. Somehow it did not register to her that Dante was reading her novel, until she did a double take. Mouth agape, she dropped her duffel and ran at him.

"No!" Dante turned, surprised, only for Christine's chest to ram into his face, and with his own shout added to the mix the chair fell back, slamming into the floor. Both of them fell onto the rug, Christine draped over Dante like a curtain over a window.

"Don't... read that." She seethed, red blush coloring her face.

Beneath her Dante attempted to speak, but he was hard to understand since Christine's chest was muffling his words. "If you didn't like people reading that, why didn't you just say so!?"

The girl realized she might've overreacted. Sighing, she sat up, getting off him and offering her hand. He looked rather disgruntled. "Sorry... I'm touchy about my stories."

"A writer huh? So you're nervous about your work?" He asked. Christine nodded, moving towards her duffel bag. There was a lull in the conversation, and Dante smirked. "Or maybe you didn't want me to know that I inspired you?"

With a cringe, Christine froze. This pleased the half demon, and he kept going. "Lord Dante... I like that."

Growling, when Christine turned around she looked rather like a half demon herself. "_**Dan...teeee**_!!!"

0-0-0

Outside, Madison heard a commotion and turned her music down. From Christine's apartment she heard shouts, yelps, and screams, along with a lot of banging and thudding.

She shrugged. "That didn't take them long." Then she smiled. "Maybe I'll be an aunt soon!" A little grin came to her face, and she turned her music back up, unable to hear something that sounded like a man shouting "PUT DOWN THE STAPLER!"

0-0-0

In a bar near the edge of town a hooded man sat down for a drink. In truth he was no man. But there were very few ordinary "men", or "people" in this bar.

The bartender looked him over and sneered, then glanced back at one of his coworkers. "You're not here to cause trouble, are ya?"

The hooded man glanced up, his eyes twinkling. "What? You mean... in this bar?" He chuckled. "No. But in this city?" A great laugh left his chest, and sent a shiver down the big brute of a bartender's spine.

The hooded man grinned vilely. "Oh, yes."

0-0-0

**The Drama Llama is prancing around!**

**Okay, he isn't really, but soon he will be!**

**Hope you enjoyed it. Ta~ta!**

**SULHADAHNE**


	6. Hitting the Hot Guy in a Bad Place

After another boring school day, Christine had a pile of homework to do. Most of it was not a challenge, it was simply time consuming. Which in a way was fine, because Dante would be gone the whole day anyway.

As she thought of this, Christine became slightly worried. Was her life beginning to revolve around this man? Sure, he was charasmatic, funny, and an interesting man, but perhaps Christine was becoming too dependent on his company. Maybe she needed a girl's night out... or a girl's night in.

Or she could visit one of her parents. She hadn't been to see either of them in a while.

Christine realized how sad it was that her friends consisted of Dante, Madison, and her parents. Then there was a knock on the door. Christine glanced at the clock as she moved towards the entrance. It was too early for Dante to be home... and he wouldn't have knocked besides.

When she opened the door, Christine came face to face with a woman. She was about the same height as Madison (a little shorter than Chris) and had dark, short hair. She wore a sort of white suit. Figuring she was a customer, Christine wondered what she should say.

"Uh... if you're looking for Dante, he's not here..." She muttered.

"That's fine. I'll wait for him." The woman moved past Christine into the house, taking a seat on the sofa.

"So I take it your a friend of his?" Christine hoped the woman would say no. When she said yes, Chris was surprised to feel a flare of jealously in her heart.

"You must be his new roommate." the woman smiled. "I'm Lady. Dante and I go pretty far back."

Ignoring the fact that "Lady" was a pretty strange name, Christine moved back to her homework. "I'm Christine. And as long as I can work, I don't care if you wait." She started writing again.

"College student?" Lady asked. Christine nodded, still working.

The two left each other relatively alone, though lady did turn on the TV. Christine didn't mind. About an hour later, she finished with most of what was due the next day, and took a break. With a deep sigh, she stood and stretched.

Homework was not fun, but at least she was done for the night. Christine moved towards the kitchen, thinking of what to make for dinner.

"Are you going to eat with us?" Christine called out to Lady. Lady seemed surprised that she had asked.

"Not if Dante's ordering pizza... again." Meanwhile she rolled her eyes, and Christine chuckled.

"Don't worry, I'm making it this time." This surprised Lady, and she seemed to think about it.

"Need help?"

The silence which had ruled earlier ended as the two women lightened up, and began talking to one another as they worked.

"So how'd you meet Dante?" Christine asked. Lady was standing at the counter, chopping vegetables.

"He and I both got tangled into a battle against his brother, and my father." Lady admitted with a dark sneer. Christine decided not to ask about it. But Lady smiled. "We've been friends since then."

Somehow hearing Lady say that she and Dante were just friends made a huge weight lift from Christine's shoulders. From there, Christine explained how she had met Dante. A few moments later both women were gasping for breath.

Outside, someone stepped towards the door, but paused when he heard the conversation.

"You pepper sprayed him?" Lady gawked, sputtering with laughter.

"I felt so horrible! I mean, he does annoy me, a lot... but I still felt bad." Christine laughed again, spreading the toppings over the pizza.

"He annoys many people." Lady sighed, smirking. "He's a child."

The writer grinned. "Why, that's just right!" She laughed. "He loves pizza and ice cream, he makes all sorts of silly jokes and loves to annoy people... but in the end you just can't hate him. He's lovable... sort of."

"You really are a writer, if you can even attempt to explain Dante Sparda." Lady chuckled.

The man at the door chuckled too, then finally stepped inside the Devil May Cry.

Both women turned to see Dante step into the room, arms crossed over his chest. "Miss me?" He asked.

"Hardly." Christine muttered, but the smile on her face and the light in her eyes said otherwise. Boy, she had fallen for him, and hard. Inside, she cursed herself, but she couldn't change how she felt.

Smirking, the man approached the counter, and sniffed the air. "Is that... pizza?" He grinned.

"Made it myself. It'll be much healthier than the crap that place I worked for sells." Christine told him, putting on her mitts. She opened the oven and checked the pizza, and Dante leaned down next to her to see it.

He frowned. "What are those green things?"

Rolling her eyes, Christine shut the oven to let it cook a little longer. "They're called peppers."

"And why are they on the pizza?" Dante asked, pointing at the oven.

"Because" Christine muttered, standing akimbo. "You need some vegetables on it to make it more balanced. And I'm making salad." She grinned.

Dante's grin became a worried frown. "Vegetables on pizza?" He looked puzzled.

Christine was almost hurt, and it showed on her face for only a moment before she frowned deeply. "Eat what you want. Next time I won't bother to make dinner for you." She took her mitts off and was going to stomp away angrily, but her stomping was impaired by a muscular arm that came in front of her. Dante smiled at her.

"Babe, I'd eat anything you made for me." He winked. Still a little angry, Christine huffed.

"Then you're eating salad." Laughing, Dante moved his arm.

"Anything you say, babe." Christine moved to the fridge and got out the salad fixings, while Dante moved towards Lady.

"So, you two acquainted now?" Dante asked her. Smirking Lady nodded.

"Finally there's a new face around here." Lady told him.

"Why need a new face when you've got this?" The man asked her, gesturing to his own face. Lady glanced up, then pretended to gag, which earned giggles from Christine.

Glancing over his shoulder, Dante glared playfully at his friend. She pretended to ignore him.

"So what brings you here?" The man turned back to Lady and asked.

"Business." She told him, her look turning serious. Dante realized that whatever she had to say was no joke. Then she smirked. "It can wait till after dinner."

"It had better" Christine added, taking the pizza out of the oven. "We slaved over a hot stove all day."

Before the devil hunter could make a comeback about how he'd been killing demons all day, Lady shoved the glasses into his hand. "Get the drinks" She ordered, and Dante gave in without a retort for once.

Once they sat down, they turned the TV onto the Comedy Channel and ate away. Except for the man; Dante was still skeptically examining his "healthy" pizza. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Christine sitting on the other side of the sofa with only a salad.

This was not strange, as she enjoyed salad. What did shock Dante was the realization that he had never seen Christine eat pizza. Even the night they had met at the Pizza place, he hadn't seen her eating any. Very curious, the man asked her.

"Why aren't you eating your creation?" He asked, holding his slice up.

After swallowing her mouthful of spinach, Christine explained, "I don't like pizza."

Dante's eyes were as wide as saucers. "You... don't..."

Behind him, Lady shook her head sadly. "Now you got him started.

To Dante it seemed that not eating pizza was some sort of sin. He looked very startled. "How can you not like it?" He implored.

Taken aback, Christine shrugged. "Well, I've never tried it."

Dante moved closer to Christine immediately. "Let's remedy that."

The woman flinched away, putting her salad bowl between herself and the man. "Let's not."

"Why?" He seemed so confused.

"I don't want to try it!" Christine insisted, moving to stand. Dante reached out and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her back onto the sofa.

"I insist." Dante told her, and setting his pizza down, he took Christine's salad and moved it away. Complaining the girl stretched to steal it back, but Dante held it out of reach.

"Oh, come on! This is so childish!"

"All you have to do is try it." Salad gone, Dante picked the pizza back up again. His other arm, which was around Christine's chest, he used to grab both her wrists, keeping her from fighting back. Then he moved closer, the triangular food moving closer too.

Frowning, Christine turned her head just as Lady stood and left the room.

"Hey! Don't leave me!" Christine shouted, but Lady ignored her.

"I don't want to have to watch this." She disappeared into the bathroom.

That left Dante and Christine, glaring at one another. Dante looked pretty pleased with himself, and Christine looked ready to rip him a new one.

"Come on." Dante told her. "Don't be so stubborn."

"Don't be such an ass!" Christine, flustered, shouted at Dante. She was suddenly noticing how very close she was to him. She was getting very tired of Dante forcing himself into her personal bubble.

"You like my ass."

"Oh, I hate you."

Frowning, Christine glared at the cheesy triangle of doom. After a few moments of this, Dante moved the pizza back and forth making "zoom" noises.

"I am not a child!" Christine sputtered, insulted. "You will tire of this and let me go."

"You will try the pizza." Dante insisted once more.

This went on for a few minutes.

The sound of the toilet flushing and the bathroom door opening interrupted them. Lady stepped out and huffed, rolling her eyes. "This will never end. I haven't even known this woman for a day but I know she's just as cocky as you."

This made Christine grin. "Why thank you."

Lady, crossing her arms, grinned evilly. This killed Christine's grin. "I don't like that look." Dante looked back at Lady, eyebrow cocked in confusion.

"Both of you keep fighting for 'dominance' and it's going to drive everyone that knows you crazy." Lady explained. "Let's end it now before I kill either of you."

"And how do you suppose we do that? Mr. Ego here doesn't know when to quit!" Christine snarled. Turning back, Dante retorted,

"And you don't know when to submit."

The woman frowned. "I don't submit."

Smirking, Lady already had an idea in mind. "Simple. Fight. Winner takes all."

Dante's grin was brighter than a supernova.

Christine's heart became a emo like black hole.

"**Hell yes**!"

"_Hell no_!"

0-0-0

"I hate you."

Dante and Christine were headed towards the back of the Devil May Cry building, and down a flight of stairs to Dante's training arena. He was grinning silly like.

"What? Afraid to lose?" He challenged, and Christine huffed at him.

"You have more bullshit in you than a cow."

"And you have more sharp edges than a barbed wire fence."

Lady was following behind them, and Christine turned to glower at her.

"You've known me for a couple of hours, surely I haven't pissed you off yet." the girl complained.

"No. You're pretty cool for an underaged college student." Lady admitted. She seemed to be enjoying Christine's misery.

"Then why did you do this to me?"

"Stop complaining, you sound like Lady when I forget to pay the bills." Dante groaned, which earned him a hard glare from Lady.

They came to the basement, and Christine's eyes wandered the room. Mostly, it was just a large, empty room, and the far corner had some exercise machines and some weights. As she looked around, Dante moved to the center of the room.

Then, he spun about, jacket flaring, and lifted his arm. He beckoned Christine to the floor with a cheshire grin.

Christine did not move onto the mat. Truth was, she had never fought anyone in her life. Half of her childhood had been spent in her grandfather's "rich people" circle, where young girls certainly did not fight or wrestle. When she got older, she was too reserved to ever challenge anyone. She was hardly a lover, but she wasn't a fighter either.

Behind her came the annoying sound of metal on metal, as Lady moved a chair towards the wall for her to sit in. "Might as well get it over with." Lady told her with a smile. Christine grimaced, and became angry suddenly.

Sure, Dante was a powerful half demon. But she could kick ass. Hadn't she escaped her grandfather's goons? She'd lived twenty years on her own just fine. She wasn't helpless.

She wasn't on Dante's level, but she certainly wasn't helpless. And the way Lady and Dante were acting was as if she were a baby. And it pissed her off.

Christine rolled up her sleeves and cracked her neck, and finally stepped towards the mat.

Meanwhile, Dante grinned, and kneeled a little. He clapped his hands together, whistling, and then beckoned, as if Christine were a pet of some kind. This was the last straw, and with a snarl, the woman charged.

Aiming her first punch at his face, Christine was not at all surprised when Dante caught it easily, smirking. Then she raised her leg and kicked him, which knocked him off his feet but didn't do much else. The man remained there as Christine kneeled over his chest and raised her fist.

Then she stopped.

"How do I win this?" She asked.

Dante, doing absolutely nothing to defend himself, responded, "You get me to submit." He grinned. "Why'd you hesitate? Don't want to hurt my pretty face?"

Why had she hesitated? Suddenly a terrifying image of Dante in battle, being hurt badly, flashed before her eyes... just long enough for Dante to shove her off and roll over on top of her.

"You really aren't getting the idea are you?" He asked, confused. "I was sure you'd be a greater challenge than this."

Christine shoved the mental image from her mind, and punched Dante in the face. As he fell back, Christine rubbed her hand which hurt like hell. But she didn't stop, as he stumbled, she ran at him, shoving him down and jabbing her elbow into his gut.

Dante caught himself as he fell, sweeping his leg out to knock Christine down. She fell, then scrambled to her feet, the blood rushing through her veins. Why was this fun to her? She was getting her ass kicked! Still... she was having fun.

Lady, on the other side of the room, was on the phone, talking to somebody. Christine dodged another move by Dante as she listened to the conversation.

" - I hope he gets his ass kicked, he needs to be dropped a few notches. But I don't know if she can pull it off." Lady chuckled into the phone. "You should meet her, she's not half as bad as you supposed."

Another friend of Dante's, Christine figured, just as her stomach flew into her throat. She flew over Dante's head, about to slam into the ground, but Dante ran and caught her, keeping her arms caught behind her back.

Immediately Christine kicked Dante's shin, struggling to free herself, but Dante had her in a tight hold.

"Come on, babe, you know you don't stand a chance." He told her.

"No!" Christine shouted angrily, still shouting. "I don't want to lose, I don't want to eat your damn pizza, and I'm tired of feeling so insignificant around YOU!"

And with one last kick, Christine freed herself. She had thought she'd kicked his leg hard, shoving him back... but that was not quite the case.

"MOTHER-" Dante broke out into expletives, falling to his knees in pain. Confused, Christine spun around... and realized the horrible truth.

Lady was in tears, laughing so loud it echoed, as she tried to explain to her friend on the other line what had just occurred: Christine had kicked Dante in a rather sensitive place.

"Oh, god I am so sorry!" The woman kneeled beside him, trying to keep from bursting into laughter herself. In a way, she had won: but that wasn't the best topic to bring up at the moment, likely.

Grimacing, Dante looked up at her with an angry snarl. Christine looked a little scared. "I swear it was an accident." She was almost afraid he'd attack her for real. Then, Dante lost a little of the anger in his eyes when he saw how apologetic she looked. So instead of being pissed, he looked up with a grin.

"Kiss it and make it better?"

0-0-0

When the trio finally sat down to dinner, Christine had a piece of pizza on her plate, Dante had a hand shaped mark on his cheek and a bag of ice between his legs, and Lady was red faced from laughing.

"I can't believe I'm eating this." Christine muttered, staring at it.

Dante groaned. "You're lucky I don't get revenge."

"To me this is revenge."

Letting out a aggravated sigh, Dante said. "Fine! I don't care."

Suddenly Christine felt bad. She glanced down at the pizza and sighed. What would it hurt? Her arteries, Christine thought, but she ignored her mind and picked up the pizza.

Dante watched as Christine finally had a small taste of the delicious meal... and as she chewed it, she looked perplexed. "It's okay... I guess." Laughing, Dante let his head fall back.

"All your bitching for that." He laughed again. Christine frowned.

"I don't like being forced." She told him. "If I say no, I mean it."

The man smirked. "Really?" It took Christine a moment to realized his implication, and she frowned. She would've hit him if she hadn't caused so much damage already.

Lady rolled her eyes as she finished her meal. "You two are better than cable." She stood and took her dish to the kitchen.

Christine took another bite of her pizza, and then had a bite or two of salad. Dante, having already devoured three pieces, watched TV.

When Christine was done eating, she set her dishes on the table and let herself relax. Glancing at her, Dante chuckled.

"What?" Christine asked. Dante leaned closer to her.

"You missed some." He muttered.

And then he kissed her.

Apparently (or according to Dante at least), there had been a little cheese on Christine's lips. Dante applied pressure, and then licked her lips lightly, taking whatever had been there off. The girl, shell shocked, stayed very still, her eyes wide. Then, he leaned away, a broad grin on his face.

"I would hit you." She muttered.

"And you aren't because?"

Christine smirked and turned away.

"... I already did."

0-0-0

As Christine did the dishes, Dante and Lady moved towards his office.

"So what's causing trouble now?" The devil hunter began, seeming to be tired of the business already. He sat behind his desk and propped his feet up.

Lady moved towards the door, and looked to make sure that Christine was in the kitchen. Then, quietly, she closed the door.

"There's a new demon in town."

"Great" Dante said. "And he's got a chip on his shoulder, right?"

"Of course." Lady smirked. "And I'm afraid you're already involved."

Without speaking, Dante nodded in the direction of the kitchen, and Christine. Lady nodded.

"Her grandfather mentioned something about a demon being after him." Dante told her.

"Bartholomew Rodham, from the Rodham family hunters. Ring a bell?" The woman asked, leaning on the desk near him.

Dante looked like he recognized it. "Rodham... human hunters who became pretty strong... until they were wiped out. Least that's what I heard."

"Almost all of them were." Lady told him. "Bartholomew was the last of the hunter generation. But it looks like someone's come back to haunt him... and your new friend will be a target."

Frowning, Dante remembered the racist man who Christine had only barely escaped from. "Wonder who it was he pissed off."

"I haven't found anything out about the demon, except that he's been stalking the city streets looking for the Rodham's. Trish is looking for more."

"When she knows something, have her call me. Until then, I'm gonna stick close to home." Dante told her. "I'm pretty secure in the bank, so I can quit taking jobs until this cools off."

That seemed to surprise Lady, and with a slightly curious look, she examined Dante. "How long have you known this girl?"

He shrugged. "We met a few days ago, and we've been arguing ever since." The man grinned.

"And what is your connection to her? A strained friendship?" Lady seemed to be waiting for Dante to explain.

The man realized he couldn't avoid his friend's questioning. Lady was like a sister to him, and he knew she would keep asking for the rest of her life, if that was what it took. So, huffing, he admitted something he hadn't even admitted to himself.

"I'm... drawn to her."

Laughing, Lady grinned. "Is Dante becoming a one woman man?" She joked.

The man rolled his eyes, but he did smile. "Don't know. But... yeah. If I get the chance, I'll date her." That reminded him of something. "Oh yeah! Her friend set me up with her on a blind date."

Lady seemed confused. "That doesn't sound like a blind date."

Dante smirked. "It is for Christine."

"I give up on you." Lady turned to the door. "I'll call when I know more about our demon problem. "

When the two left the room, Christine was watching TV and sorting through her homework. She glanced up. "You through?"

Lady nodded. "I'm leaving." She moved to the coffee table and picked up Christine's pencil, using it to write her phone number on the top of the woman's homework. "If you ever get tired of sitting around here, give me a call."

Christine laughed. "I will."

The woman left Devil May Cry, waving behind her, before getting onto her motorcycle and taking off. "You have pretty cool friends." Christine admitted.

Dante chuckled, glancing at Christine. "Today was pretty interesting."

"You said it. And I really am sorry about earlier." She cringed.

"It's fine. I heal fast." He collapsed into the chair near her, grabbing the remote control. "And I apologize."

Shocked, Christine grinned. "Did I hear what I thought I heard?"

"Yes you did; Lord Dante apologizing. Amazing isn't it?" The reference to her novel made Christine frown deeply, but she let it slide. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have bothered you so much. But you're so fun to tease."

Rolling her eyes, Christine stuffed her homework into her bag and then leaned back. "I don't mind teasing. Just don't try and control me, okay?"

Dante looked away from the TV, and looked Christine in the eyes. "Promise. But you have to promise too." He said, gesturing at her with the control.

"And what's that?"

"When we have arguments in the future, keep my balls out of them."


	7. Surprised by the Hot Guy

It seemed to me he was the most beautiful man in this world...

And yet not of this world. So very separate...

Perhaps I am the only one who can see the separation, the clear division in his heart, but I know he suffers.

What can I do?

- C.L. Moss, Unnamed Novel

The first few days of Dante and Christine's lives together were rather odd.

Firstly, Dante had to cope with a lack of pizza that he'd never experienced before. The withdrawal effects were frightening; sometimes he'd stare at into the fridge, looking for something to eat, for a very long time, a dead look in his eyes. Often he'd just grumble and glare at Christine, who would ignore him.

One afternoon as Christine was typing Dante quietly made to take her cell phone, and without turning around, she muttered vehemently, "Drop it."

All the pizza delivery numbers had been thrown away, and Christine hoped to eventually convert Dante to a somewhat healthier lifestyle. He was fighting tooth and nail, and eventually to make it easier Christine had allowed him pizza every Friday.

"Aren't even married and you've already taken over everything." Dante like to mutter. Christine would either ignore him or toss something at him. It was for his own good anyway; he wouldn't be fighting demons long if he didn't shape up in the health department.

Also, Christine no longer had any time alone, as Dante had stopped taking missions. They spent most of their time together so that the hunter could keep Christine safe, but it was driving her nuts. As long as rogue demons were out to kill her grandpa and members of her family, she was in trouble. Luckily, her father wasn't related to Grandpa, and her mother lived in far away Boston. So Christine was the only one in danger.

Spending all of her time with anyone would be annoying, as Christine was certainly a loner. Being with Dante all the time was... Well…

A few nights after their first day together, Christine came out of the shower (dressed, of course, and in sweatpants and a baggy black sleep shirt) to find Dante sprawled out on the couch, sound asleep.

Surprised, the girl approached him as she dried her hair. He looked almost peaceful as he slept, maybe even serene. Watching him, Christine wondered how such a handsome looking man could be such a pain in the butt. She knew he had a heart of gold... but he hardly ever showed it.

The peaceful look on Dante's face changed, and his lips parted slightly. "Nhm…"

Was he having a dream? Curious, Christine stayed where she was.

Suddenly Dante moved a little, his arms twitching. "uh… um…" The look on his face said it all. Dante was having a rather… strange dream. Huffing, Christine rolled her eyes and turned to leave.

"Oh, baby, Ch - Christine…"

Christine's eyes were as big as saucers as she spun around, flushed red, to look at the sofa. Furious, she wasn't sure whether to faint from embarrassment or just kill Dante then and there.

The man sat up and looked at Christine with a smug grin and a winkle in his eye.

"Should I become an actor you think?" The hunter taunted.

"DANTE!"

The two became adjusted to one another's schedules: Dante took care of his business while Christine was at school and was always there to pick her up. She spent a lot of time doing homework and he, meanwhile, lazed about or played video games. His favourite game was "annoy Christine". In response Christine would either withhold pizza on Fridays or just beat him up with a textbook.

He did get rather bored sitting at home, so Dante often stayed in the basement to train. Soon he was practicing so much that the punching bags had to be replaced weekly, sometimes daily. At least Christine knew she wasn't the only one suffering. She loved being alone, and Dante loved fighting, and they both had sacrificed these things for her safety. At least Dante was being unselfish. Christine, over the first few days, felt her respect for Dante grow. Slightly.

He was still quite the character…

Seeing that Dante hardly had cleaning standards (and that half his clothes were blood stained) Christine had taken to doing his laundry with hers. It wasn't a real bother, and she felt it was the least she could do.

As Christine was picking up clothes one day, she didn't notice Dante coming upstairs behind her. She picked up a pair of socks and scrunched her nose.

"Eu de Dante" She huffed as she put them in the basket.

"What're you doing?" He asked with a confused expression.

"Cleaning. Surprised?" Smirking, she turned to him. "Have you ever seen a washing machine before?"

"Used to see 'em in my dreams all the time, until you replaced 'em." He winked. Unaffected, Chris rolled her eyes.

As he walked away, and Christine continued picking up laundry, she noticed something strange. Confused, Christine called to him. "Hey don't you have any underwear here?"

Turning to her, Dante grinned pervertedly. "What do you think?"

They were perhaps the oddest two to ever live together. And as Christine would meet more of Dante's friends, it would get stranger.

Such as the day Christine one of Dante's rare guy friends...

0-0-0

It was a week after her first meeting with Lady, and Christine was sitting in her bedroom, the room she shared with Dante. Somehow she was managing to do her homework while also talking to Madison on the phone.

"Man, this sucks. We can't even go shopping together..." Madison sighed on the phone.

To tell the truth, Christine did not miss their shopping sessions. She loved being with Madison... but Madison liked shopping at the mall. And the mall was full of people. Christine hated people.

But she didn't mention this, not wanting to hurt her friend's feelings. "Until whoever is trying to get to my grandpa is stopped, I've gotta be babysat like... well, a baby. Not to mention my grandfather will snatch me up first chance he gets."

"That's true. What a snob." The girl huffed. "Still we need to hang out. I've got some friends I'd like you to meet; they're really cool..."

Christine didn't like Madison's friends, who Madison tried to force on her in an attempt to make her more social. It didn't work. "Look, maybe some night you could come have pizza with me and Dante." That sounded like a lot more fun.

"Oh, but I want to have some girl time. Besides, I don't want to intrude on you and Dante~" Christine smirked and rolled her eyes. Madison did not know how to take a hint.

"It's not for forever. Life will return to normal eventually, as soon as Dante finds this demon bastard." That made Madison chuckle.

"I wonder why this guy's after your grandpa anyway..." Yes; why? Christine had wondered the same thing.

At that moment the devil hunter sauntered into the room and towards his closet. Currently he was wearing his training clothes (baggy black pants and no shirt), but he began to shrug the pants off.

"HOLY SHIT, Dante!" Christine screeched into Madison's ears, jumping in surprise and falling off the bed.

Dante laughed. "What? My room, too, you know." He proceeded to take his black, sweat lathered pants off, dropping them to the floor. Removing the leather pants and red chaps out of the closet, he started slipping them on.

"What's going on? Come on, what is it?" Christine ignored her inquisitive friend and instead, red faced, shouted at the hunter as he dressed.

"What the fuck's wrong with you? At least warn me!"

"Hey, babe, this is a treat." He laughed as he buckled his belt.

At this point Madison shouted loudly in Christine's ear. "Come on, talk to me!" The girl begged.

Clearly annoyed, Christine muttered, "Dante is being an asshole."

"But he's a cute asshole." She giggled. Christine chose to ignore that. Glancing back to see if it was safe, she saw that Dante was buckling his black shirt up, and heaved a sigh of relief.

Finally dressed, the hunter walked to the side of the bed where Christine was sitting, and kneeled to her level, snatching the phone from her quickly.

"Hey!" He ignored Christine's objections and stood, talking to Madison.

"So, told her about our date yet?" The man asked nonchalantly. Christine seemed confused, but Madison completely understood.

"Oh! Put her back on!"

With a debonair smirk Dante held the phone back out to Christine. The woman looked very edgy, almost weary, as she snatched the phone back. "What date?" She growled. His work done, Dante sauntered out of the room. As she listened to Madison on the phone, the woman leaned into the hallway, shouting after him.

"Come back here! What was he talking about?" She addressed the last statement to Madison, talking back into her cell.

"I set you up on a date with Dante! Next Friday, at seven!"

Christine looked like she just been punched in the gut. "Wonderful..."

"Hey" Dante appeared at the bottom of the steps, demonstrating with his arms. "I spend all my time protecting you, the least you could do is join me for dinner." He winked, then just barely dodged out of the way of Christine's shoe. Even though the woman knew it was true, she would never admit that she felt indebted to Dante.

"Anyway, I'm leaving!" He called from downstairs.

Surprised, Christine ignored Madison's laughter and moved towards the top of the stairs. "Wait, what?"

Once again Dante stood at the bottom, holding Christine's converse in one hand. "I've got business that won't wait. Don't worry; a friend is coming over to take my place." He tossed her shoe back up, and instead of bothering to catch it Christine just let it fall. It hit the small lamp on the hallway table, and it crashed to the floor and flickered out.

"W- Wait..." For once Christine had lost her sharp tongue but she spoke so softly Dante didn't hear her. Ignoring the glass behind her, she moved down the stairs. He was headed towards the door. Christine raced after him. "Wait!"

Glancing back, he stopped, and Christine ran into his back. This was very out of character, how flustered she looked, and she spoke without her usual reserve. "How can I trust some person I've never met? You're gonna leave me alone with them?"

This confused Dante, but he went with it. "Trust me. He's a friend of mine. He owes me a favor." He cocked an eyebrow at Christine's sudden shy attitude.

"He?"

The man shrugged, turning back towards the door, but then for a moment he turned back to glance at Christine. She seemed like she'd just leapt out of bed, hair razzled and with a sleepy look on her face. Usually she had a sharp wit and determined look about her, but at this moment she looked almost vulnerable.

"You okay?" He asked.

For a moment the girl didn't know what to say. Madison was buzzing in her ear, so Christine hung up on her. Dante quirked an eyebrow at this. "You this nice to all your friends?"

She ignored him. "I'm fine. I'm just not sure I like this ... situation, you leaving me here." The girl huffed.

A small smirk came to his lips, and he crossed his arms. "Feel nervous without me?"

Flushed scarlet Christine regained her vicious tongue. "Actually I feel a great sense of relief that I don't have to watch and make sure you don't 'accidentally' come into the bedroom when I'm changing." She sneered. "Also, I can shower in peace."

Dante's only reaction was a wink. "So why don't you want me to leave?"

Christine frowned deeply. "Who says your friend isn't twice as bad?"

"Touche" He bowed slightly. "But then again, it just so happens that this friend of mine is madly in love and wouldn't even blink if you invited him into the shower with you. Which, if you did, I would have to kill him in a jealous rage."

"Kill away. Then I wouldn't have to bother with him." Resigning herself to her fate, Christine crossed her arms and trudged to the computer.

"But then we'd need a new babysitter. And I'm afraid killing the kid would be harder than it sounds." With one last wave, Dante turned towards the door. "I'm not leaving yet, but as soon as he's here, I'm gone." He proceeded to move out the front door to the porch.

For a moment Christine watched him sit on a rocking chair (which Christine had bought for the spot; the front porch just looked so empty) and prop his feet up, and she looked strangely forlorn.

As much as she wanted to believe Dante... strangers scared her.

She could only hope that this friend of his was as nice as Dante wanted her to believe.

0-0-0

Meanwhile, Dante was talking to said "friend" on his cell phone, who until only five minutes prior had not known he was going to be playing babysitter.

"What the hell, Dante?" The voice of a young, strong male shouted through the phone. "Last time I saw you we killed a giant animated statue of your dad, and now outta the blue, you want a favor?"

"Way I see it, you owe me. Didn't you say so yourself, way back then?" Dante leaned back in the rocking chair, grinning. The huff that came from the phone seemed to show that the youth realized Dante's words were true.

"A little warning would've been nice."

"You'll get over it. How soon can you get here?" The older man asked. "Oh, and would you mind getting a pizza on your way here? I'm starving."

"Suck it, old man."

0-0-0

Thus, an hour later, Dante's erstwhile friend entered his house and reentered his life for the first time in quite a few months. And, just like old friends, the arguements ensued immediately.

Christine heard them from the bathroom as they began. At first it almost sounded like her male clone was in the other room, taking her place as a pain in the butt to Dante. As she stepped into the room she was quite amused by what she saw.

"Hey, look who it is." Dante laughed as the new person sauntered into the room with all the attitude Dante himself had, but with a little more teen angst. "What took so long?"

"I went outta my way to get your fucking pizza, that's what took so long." Sneering the boy tossed the pizza box onto the counter.

"You did? I'm touched."

"Whatever." This new person was a little shorter than Dante, but with the same silver hair. A weird cast covered his arm, but he moved it with ease. As Christine stepped into the room and examined her new guardian, he and Dante began to bicker.

For the most part, Christine ignored them. She was more curious about the strange cast on the stranger's arm. It certainly didn't look broken... he moved it with ease... it was rather weird.

Finally, the new guy noticed Christine standing in the hallway, and looked up. Dante turned around. "Hey" He grinned and nodded towards the other man. "Come meet your babysitter."

Nervous, Christine frowned and moved closer slightly, but not moving beyond Dante. "This is Nero, a pain in the ass who owes me a favor." The man motioned to Nero, who frowned at him. "I'm sorry you have to put up with him for the night, but it was him or Lady and I don't want her searching around for the money I owe her."

Nero rolled his eyes after Dante's explanation. "I feel sorry for her that she has to live with you."

"But I'm pretty lucky, aren't I?" The older man winked, and once again Nero rolled his eyes. But, he did nod, which made Christine flush and glance away like she hadn't heard.

Approaching Christine, Nero held his hand out as a form of peacemaking. Christine noticed it was the one without the cast.

"Are you left handed?" Christine asked, and Nero shrugged. She nervously took his hand, but instead of shaking, Nero did a strange thing where he grasped her hand then pulled back, something Christine had never done. It was a weird handshake, and at the look of confusion on Christine's face, Nero chuckled.

"So, who're you?" Nero asked. Dante watched the exchange as the two talked.

"Christine Moss. Unfortunate denizen of this... business." She gestured about.

"Like I said, I'm sorry." They both laughed. Christine felt a little more at ease. Nero didn't have the same friendly air to him that Dante seemed to have, but it was easy to warm up to him. Nero wasn't that bad. He seemed sort of ... protective. Not as easygoing as Dante, but certainly not mean. Her fears faded a bit.

Dante smirked, realizing Christine was okay with the situation. He grabbed his sword from its place on the wall, put it on his back, and turned to the door.

"Well, don't get frisky while I'm gone. If you stole Christine from me I might have to look to Kyrie for comfort..." Dante addressed Nero as he left. Sauntering away, hands in his pockets, Dante knew he'd hit the mark when Nero spun around and yelled at him.

"I'll kick your ass!"

Dante just laughed as the door slammed shut behind him.

0-0-0

It was rather awkward for the first few minutes. Christine, though she had begun to feel less nervous, still felt rather stiff. She didn't know what to say, what to do, with this total stranger.

Nero, too, seemed lost for words, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Well..." He sighed, then looked at Christine. "Need anything?"

The woman seemed taken aback by the question, and shook her head. "Okay." The man shrugged and went to the sofa, and grabbed the remote.

Christine sighed. What was she supposed to do now? Glancing at the clock, she realized it would be a while before she was tired, so she might as well work on homework. Once she'd taken it out of her bag, she sat on a chair near the sofa.

"So who's Kyrie?" She asked, remembering the name Dante had said. "Girlfriend?"

Nero nodded, and his eyes grew distant at the word Kyrie, as if he were imagining her.

Christine was amazed that Nero's girlfriend was allowing him to be alone with another woman, and she said so.

"Kyrie isn't the jealous type. She knows I love her." Nero told Christine, but the woman wasn't convinced. But she didn't press it.

So, for an hour, they sat in almost total silence, only the TV breaking the quiet. Every so often Christine would glance up at Nero. She noticed how alike he and Dante looked... were they related? At that point she decided to ask Nero how he and Dante had met.

"We were enemies at first... but he helped me save a friend." The boy began. As he spoke, he stood and walked to the kitchen. Christine could hear his voice from the other room. "He was a pain in the ass at first, but he can be a nice guy, if he wants."

"That's the truth." Christine chuckled. "So that's why you owe him? He helped you?" The boy nodded.

Once again they fell quiet. After a while, Nero groaned and let his head fall back on the couch. "I am so fucking bored!"

Chuckling, Christine decided, for her guardian's sake, she would set aside her homework. Nero glanced at her, and she gestured to the game system by the TV.

"You play?" She asked.

Nero grinned.

0-0-0

Dante was standing outside a bar, as drizzling rain began to fall. The roar of a motorcycle was in the distance, getting closer. The man grinned as it slid to a stop nearby him.

"Took you long enough." He muttered.

His blonde friend glowered warningly. "You owe me for this." She muttered. "This was so much trouble, I ought to just shoot you."

"But that wouldn't be very nice, would it?" He grinned. "Besides, this is for a good cause. Your information could save a woman's life."

Another motorcycle roared into the alleyway out front of the bar. Surprised, Dante watched as the woman on the other bike came to a stop, wearing a helmet. He felt as if he might know her...

"And she is?" He asked. The blonde woman smiled.

"My informant."

The other woman removed her helmet and revealed bright red hair, tan skin, and a knowing smirk.

"Hello, Dante."


	8. Dealing with the Drunk Hot Guy

**Pizza Delivery!**

**_Love at First Slice!_**

Chapter Eight: Dealing with the Drunk Hot Guy

The woman standing behind Trish had darker skin, and dark crimson hair like blood splattered across red bricks. Dante laughed seeing her. "Been a while, Lucia. How've you been?"

Lucia smiled, and inclined her head. "Fine. You?"

Dante thought of Christine. "Confused as hell, but I'll live." This wasn't the answer Lucia expected, and in showed on her face. Dante laughed again.

"How'd you get involved in this?" The man asked.

Both women parked their bikes and turned them off. Trish stood next to Dante as the other two talked. "I've been keeping track of your demon for a while. He came through to the human world from Dumary Island." Dumary Island was Lucia's home. "When I heard Trish was asking about him, I called her."

"Cool." He grinned again, and Trish shook her head, turning to the entrance to the bar.

"Should I leave you two to talk and deal with the demon on my own?" She asked as she went inside. Dante and Lucia glanced at one another one last time before following her.

The room was pretty large, with a bar running along the left side, and tables arranged around the room. It was pretty full of patrons and beautiful waitresses. Dante and his partners were led into a back room, and offered drinks.

"No thank you." Lucia muttered.

"Beer." Dante requested. Trish asked for the same.

Once the waitress was gone, the group got to business. "So, what do you know?"

A manilla folder slid across the table from Lucia to Dante. He flipped it open.

"He's powerful enough to take human form, and so far he hasn't attacked any humans, only the random demons that pop up around the city." Lucia began. "I follow him on his rounds, and mostly he wanders, sometimes talking to demons, hunters, other underground members of society. Asks a lot of questions about weapons, demon arms, and other demon tools."

"Nothing solid, but you're suspicous?" Trish surmised. Lucia nodded.

"He knows I follow him, but does nothing. I don't like it."

Dante glanced up. "He got a name?"

"His associates call him Justice."

"Justice?" The drinks arrived, and Trish popped her beer open with a snort. "He's on a mission, that's for sure."

"I can't find anything tying him to your friend's family." Lucia admitted. "I don't know if he's your man."

Dante drank half his beer in one long swig. "My instincts say he is." The man told her.

"What's this demon's problem, you think?" Trish asked Lucia.

"Does it matter?" Dante set his beer back down, then propped his feet on the table. "We kill the guy, its over and done."

"I don't think so." Trish cocked an eyebrow at him. "This family is just as suspicious. What if they're like the Order of the Sword, humans up to no good?"

"Then we kick their ass too."

"Aren't they your friend's family?" Lucia brought up. Dante thought about that.

"This could get complicated." He sighed. With another chug, his beer was empty. "I need more to drink."

"Look this over before you get drunk." Lucia demanded. Rolling his eyes, Dante looked back at the information in the file.

There was a picture of a tall demon, rugged looking, with stubble, high cheekbones, and dark eyes. Wavy brown hair fell over his shoulders, and he dressed like a goth. Dante scowled. "Wonder if Christine might recognize him..."

"You think she'd know him?" Trish asked.

"Wouldn't hurt to ask."

"He goes to the museum often." Lucia began. "I'm not sure if it means anything, but it is strange."

"Maybe he likes history."

"I meant the art museum."

"So he appreciates beauty. He should come see me. Not that I roll that way." Rolling her eyes, Trish picked her drink up.

"We can't overlook anything. I'll investigate the museum." She told them. The waitress walked in and asked if they wanted menus, and they requested them.

"My treat ladies. It'd be perfect if Lady and Christine were here..." Dante began, drinking the new beer he'd been supplied with. "And Kyrie, I guess. Patty's a little young, but she could have soda. And I guess we could invite Nero, but I don't think I'd like sharing the spotlight with the kid." Dante ranted. The girls ignored him, starting their own conversation.

"This woman's family; I've researched them. They were a group of devil hunters, very successful ones, about twenty five years ago." Trish said.

"That where the money came from?" Dante asked. The blonde woman nodded.

"Around that time, their main office was attacked, and burned to the ground. They quit the business soon after." Trish recalled. "It's seems life went on though; Grandpa Bartholomew's daughter was married two months later."

"Can't live in the past." Dante told her.

"The family could've attacked this demon, perhaps hurt him, and his pride. He could be here for revenge." Lucia thought.

"Then why hasn't he attacked already? I've been protecting Christine for a week or so, and I haven't had any fights, at all. It's been boring as hell."

"Come to think of it, demons have been around a lot less recently." Trish wondered, crossing her legs. "This one must be scaring them off. Claiming the city as 'his territory'. But you're right, his hesitance is strange."

"That means only one thing; he's waiting for something." Lucia said. "He's no peon, he's a mastermind, and he has a plan."

Grinning, Dante just laughed. "That makes things a lot more interesting!"

0-0-0

Boisterous laughter echoed through the halls of Devil May Cry. Two older teens sat in the front room, talking and chatting and crying from laughing so hard.

"Each time I meet a friend of Dante's I learn so much." Christine joked, wiping away a tear from her eye. Nero, hands on his hips, nodded in agreement.

"I've learned from you too."

"Like what?"

The boy grinned cockily and gestured to her. "Why, Dante's taste in women." The girl sneered and smacked his hand away, but the boy only laughed. They made quite the pair; after spending a few hours playing video games, they quit to give their hands and eyes rest, and ended up talking instead.

Nero was more talkative than his reserved manner let off. He was a kind hearted boy who kept his heart hidden beneath a layer of teenage attitude, and had a soft spot for those who couldn't protect themselves. His brotherly nature comforted Christine, and her earlier worries had vanished as if they never were. Being around him was so easy to do that it felt like they'd been friends for ages. They spent hours talking. At first it had started with Christine asking about the weapons displayed around the Devil May Cry office.

"They're devil arms." The silver haired youth had begun. "Dante got them all on missions."

Approaching a case, Christine stared through the glass. "A collector I guess?"

"Probably. Sometimes I think he just keeps them cause he has to."

This confused Christine. She had very little knowledge of the demon world, and hadn't really asked Dante about it. But since she had the chance, she decided to interrogate Nero. "Why?" The teen made an excellent teacher, even talking and stalking about like one, with Christine following behind.

"He complains about most of them. 'This one's clingy, this one's too loud'." Jaw dropped, the girl tapped the glass of one. Could they be alive in there, the seemingly inanimate objects? Surely not... then again... surely demons didn't exist either.

"They're... alive?"

"Some of em. They're demons." Nero said, leaning with one shoulder against the well. Of course; if something didn't make sense, then a demon was behind it.

Each day, the world became a little scarier as Christine learned more about the darker world, through Dante. This did frighten her. Rightfully it should, but Christine felt it would be okay... long as people like Dante were around. Besides, he would've warned her if they were dangerous, right?

Yet, as it scared her, she was also intrigued. Living, demonic weapons? Sweet!

As she looked over the wall, Christine saw many swords of different shapes and colors; she saw Asian styled weapons, three pronged "numchuks"; there was even a guitar on the wall, though Christine was sure it was no ordinary musical instrument. Each one made a shiver travel down her spine, because it really felt like they were looking right back at her.

"All this?" She frowned. "He's got quite the collection. But some of these hardly look threatening." Once it came out of her mouth, she regretted it. Hopefully they couldn't hear her.

Nero chuckled. "Don't tell them that. They'll take it personal." Christine shivered.

Suddenly the door opened with a slam, and the two turned around to face it. A body was slouching against the doorframe, shrouded in darkness, and for a moment Christine thought she was about to meet a full blooded demon. Nero seemed to think the same as he readied his devil bringer. Then, the "dangerous" demon stumbled into the light.

It was Dante, his eyes half closed, hunched over and grinning stupidly. Christine blinked. "Uh... Dante?" She stepped closer to him. Rolling his eyes, Nero huffed and moved to the kitchen.

"He's drunk."

As soon as Dante stood a little taller, waved his arm toward Nero and said, "I am nuuuut drunk," and wavered on the spot, Christine knew it was true. She gave a displeasured sigh.

"Yes, he is." The girl watched with disgust as Dante stumbled to the couch. He tried to lean on its back, but tripped on his boot and his face smashed into the back of the sofa. It was very sad, but Christine and Nero still laughed.

"He is smashed. That's surprising, its hard to get him like this." Nero told her, getting a water bottle from the fridge. "He holds his alcohol well."

"I guess so, he is a demon." The man was currently mumbling something about flying furniture as he pulled himself up and set his chin on the top of the couch. His tired eyes wandered the room, and then fell on Christine.

"Hi." He grinned. Christine shook her head.

"So what do I do with him?" She crossed her arms. "He's supposed to protect me, what happens if demons attack while he's like this?"

Standing nearby, both watched as Dante tried to stand on his own. He stood, but then stumbled far to the left, only just catching himself. "Why's the house shakin? ... it's like a boat... hehe... I'm on a boat..." He kept laughing to himself as his friends shook their heads.

"You'd probably be fine, but I'll stay anyway." Nero told her. "I'd hate to have to kill Dante if I left and he let you get hurt." The boy moved past Dante, ignoring the man as he asked, "Are we on a boat?"

Then he laid down on the sofa, hands on his head. "I'm going to go to sleep. If he gets annoying, wake me up." Then he closed his eyes.

Christine smiled. She knew Nero didn't have to stay and put up with their weird friend, but he was anyway. It was a nice gesture.

From there, Christine turned to scowl at Dante. "You idiot."

Dante spun around quickly, too quickly it seemed as he became dizzy. Then, he saw Christine. A perverted smile came to his lips, and he set his arm out, as if to casually yet sexily lean against something, but there was nothing there. Dante realized this too late. It was quite the treat for Christine to watch the usually agile hunter suddenly fall flat on his face.

Even though she was laughing, Christine managed to reach out to him and help him steady himself. "You are so stupid." She said between giggles.

Leaning a little against her, Dante winked, though it might've just been his inability to keep his eyes fully open. "Is that girl language... for studly?" He tried to back up and gesture his arms outward, but instead almost slapped Christine in the shoulder.

"Hey!" She frowned. "No hitting."

"Sooorry" He said sarcastically, leaning on Christine's shoulder again. "Sooo... why don't we go to bed now... together... huuuuh?"

Nero sat up at this, his eyes rather wide. So much for him being asleep. Christine huffed and nodded. "Come on, let's go to bed." The younger silver haired boy continued to stare wide eyed as Christine mounted the stairs, Dante close behind. Then Christine heard a thud.

From Nero's laughter she knew it was Dante. So she spun around to look at him. He was having trouble getting on the stairs, and was on his stomach sprawled over the bottom three steps. What an idiot. Huffing, Christine moved down to the bottom and helped the man up, putting her arm under his.

"Hopeless, you are totally hopeless." Shaking her head Christine began to help him up. The hunter chuckled, and his breath tickled her ear. But of course that didn't make her blush. Not at all.

Step by step, Christine hauled the muscular man towards their shared room. He was quite heavy, so it was slow going, but at least Nero wasn't staring at them in shock anymore. Now he'd never believe that she and Dante were just friends. But Christine let it go.

Suddenly something squeezed her behind and with an unlady like screech she let Dante go. He fell hard against the stairs, laughing drunkenly even as Christine proceeded to kick his ribs.

"Asshole!" She shouted, before storming up the stairs. The woman entered their room and slammed the door behind her.

Dante's laughter didn't sound so drunken anymore. In fact, he seemed particularly lucid. Nero was shaking his head at him, still lying out across the sofa. The hunter leapt to his feet with a broad grin.

"You are an asshole." Nero told him, in case he didn't know.

"Hey, you're the one who didn't tell her I was faking." The younger boy sat up, an indignant look on his face.

"How was I supposed to know?" The boy asked. Dante blinked in confusion, leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

"You don't..." He paused, trying to find the words. "You're a demon. Couldn't you smell it?" The boy shook his head and Dante groaned. "Kids these days..." But he let it go. The man mounted the stairs and headed to the bedroom door, ready to apologize, on his knees if he had to. The idea actually sounded like a good deal of fun, if he thought about it.

Meanwhile, Nero shook his head, muttered something under his breath about the older man, and laid back down. A second later he sprang to his feet. "You feel that?"

Dante was already running down the hall, and slammed the door to the bedroom open. "Christine!"

A total stranger was standing by the bedroom window, a mask covered his face. Christine was struggling to free herself from his iron grip, a hand around her mouth, her eyes flaring with anger. Demons with scythes filled the rooms, their attention turning to the door when Dante shoved it open, mouths gaping.

"Stop!" Dante leapt across the room as the man escaped through the window, Christine still fighting him. The demons leapt upon him, holding him back. The demon hunter was distracted, not at his best. "Fuck!"

A fist collided with one of the demon's faces, and Nero glared up at Dante. "What are you doing? Get the hell out of here!" The youth continued to deal with the demons, using his devil arm to grab one and swing him out into the yard through the window, knocking a few others down.

Dante didn't need to be told twice. In a second, he was leaping out of the window, out into the city lights.


	9. Sulking over the Hot Guy

_**Pizza Delivery!**_

**Love at First Slice!**

Chapter Eight: The Hot Guy is Pouting, For Some Reason

"Get out of my way, dammit!"

The Devil Hunter was in no mood for games. He sliced and diced his way through the demonic baddies without his usual comments or banter. But, as he killed one, two more would take its place. He was getting nowhere fast, and Christine was getting further and further away.

 Not that Dante was worried about Christine getting hurt, no, no. She was a strong girl, and her grandfather wouldn't try and hurt her. No, he only rushed because going to the mansion to rescue Christine again would be annoying. That was the only reason. Really.

"Ah, fuck!" A severed demon arm and head flew through the air, and Dante leapt over the surrounding demons. "This is taking too long!"

With swift feet, Dante hurried through the city streets, avoiding what demons he could. He'd get them later once Christine was safe. Besides, Nero needed something to keep him busy, right?

-=-=-

Christine was anything but a damsel in distress. She might've been a damsel, and she certainly was in trouble, but no "prince" or rescuer (or cocky silver haired demon hunters) needed to save her; she could handle it.

She hoped.

Flailing like a fish, Christine struggled to free herself from her grandfather's henchman; she didn't faze him until she caught him off guard by freeing her arm and elbowing him in the face.

 He fell, clutching his nose, and Christine was off like a rocket. She raced back towards the Devil May Cry building, but she didn't get far before the demons surrounded her.

 These demons, though they seemed to be aiding her grandfather, turned on Christine quickly. The hulking, drooling beasts stumbled towards her as she stepped back, looking for something to use as a weapon. There wasn't anything.

"Shit." She cursed. Glancing to the left, the woman saw a fire escape. She took the change and raced towards it, quickly climbing towards the roof.

What she found there was her grandfather's henchman, nose bleeding badly. The man grabbed her arms and made to hoist her up, so she drew up her knee and aimed between his legs.

He groaned immediately and curled up, and Christine took the chance to knock him off the building. He tumbled onto the demons below. They might've saved his fall, but the poor man was quickly made into lunch.

So Christine took off again, heart burning in pride.

Dante was going to be disappointed that he couldn't be her knight in shining armor.

-=-=-

Meanwhile, our favorite demon hunter was about ready to pull his gorgeous hair out by the roots. For the life of him he couldn't find that girl. He knew she wasn't gone, her scent was everywhere.

"Find her?" Nero strode towards him through the remains of demons.

"Look." Dante nodded to the dead body of the kidnapper, or, the little pieces the demons left behind. "But, as you can see, she's not here." Nero almost commented on how out of character Dante was being, (he was _worried_! Really!), but one look at the furious expression on his face made the teen shut his mouth.

"Think she got away?" Nero asked him. The older man glanced back down the road.

"Maybe she did. Then..." He began moving down the street, Nero close behind him.

"Then she'd head back to the shop." Nero finished.

Then, they were off, racing towards home.

-=-=-

The shop was much too quiet when Christine finally got there.

"Wonder how long it'll take 'em to realize where I am." Christine smiled happily and collapsed onto the couch, tired of running.

"Yes, I wonder."

The woman cursed and leapt back to her feet, fists clenched. Standing by the door, flanked by two large guards, was Bartholomew.

"Grandpa." Christine glanced away.

Her grandfather smiled and moved towards her. Despite knowing the danger, Christine couldn't help but reach out and hug him tightly.

"My poor dear..." Bartholomew muttered as they leaned away from one another. "Why do you do this to yourself?"

Christine sighed, anger coming to her. "To myself?" She backed away. "You're the one trying to take me!"

"For your own good, since you know no better." Bartholomew's tone darkened.

This irritated his granddaughter. "Dante is my friend, grandpa, he's not a bad person."

"A friend!?" Barty slammed the end of his cane against the floor. "He is a demon! A human, nay, no one could be friends with a demon!"

"Why do you hate him so?" Christine asked desperately. "Yes, most demons are bad, but not all of them. And if being Dante's friend is so bad, what about allying yourself with demons!" She sneered and threw her arms up.

Barty held her gaze. "They will obey me, yes. They are monstrous, but a useful distraction. Your 'friends' are fighting them at this moment." Concern flashed over Christine's face. "Don't worry for them. They are worse monsters than the weak demons they fight. They will, regrettably, live."

Disgusted by her grandfather's words, Christine shut her eyes. "Where does this prejudice come?" She muttered. Again she asked, "Why?"

Bartholomew hesitated, then slowly approached his granddaughter. Resting on the arm of the couch, he set his cane aside, and began rolling up his pant leg. Then, he lowered his sock.

The skin on his leg was singed and scarred, burned black by flame and incomplete, as if parts had burned away. It was revolting, but Christine did not flinch. She could see by the scarring that it went all the way up to his thigh.

"This scar..." Bartholomew began. "was given to me when I was a much younger man, by a humanoid demon such as Dante Sparda." He scowled. "Yet, even this is not the deepest wound demon kind has dealt me." He sneered and fixed his clothing, grabbing his cane back up.

Christine shook her head as she watched this. "You hate all of them..." Her scowl deepened to become harsh. She stomped across the room to him, then turned around, pulling up her shirt halfway.

"Recognize this?" Christine, of course, couldn't see her own back, but she glanced at her grandfather and saw, by the pale, horrified look on his face, that he could. "That came from a human being. You remember, right?" She seemed to be taunting him. Barty suddenly looked ashamed and turned away. Christine dropped her shirt and turned around. "Still, I don't hate all humans."

"Don't you?" Bartholomew whispered. The color was gone from his face, and he looked quite like one defeated.

Christine thought about the question, and wondered herself if she did hate humanity. "I don't. Not... not all of them. I love... I love Madison, and Dad... and you." The pitiful expression on her face pulled at her grandfather's heartstrings.

"I love you too, darling." He whispered. Turning to his goons, he waved them off. Then her turned back to her. "I can see now that you will not be deterred. I suppose children must be allowed to make their own mistakes." With a sigh he turned away. "But believe me, when Dante shows you his true colors..." His tone grew fierce. "I will be there to protect you. I promise you that."

With that said, he nodded to his men, and they left quickly, out the front door. Christine followed to watched them go. Already outside was both Dante and Nero, relatively unharmed. Dante ignored the men leaving his house, sauntering past them towards the Devil May Cry, and Christine.

Nero, meanwhile, tried to (violently) interrogate Barty and his men, but to no avail. Irritated and tired, the teen stomped into the house, past Dante and Christine on the front porch.

"What'd he want?" Dante muttered, arms crossed.

"Take me home. What else?" She sighed and turned away from her friend. She looked rather like a wilted flower, drained and upset. But a small smile came to her face and she turned back to Dante. "Guess you didn't have to come to my rescue this time."

He smirked and chuckled. "That's fine with me. I like a woman you can take care of herself."

-=-=-

Despite the playful banter that had occurred the moment after, both Dante and Christine acted awkwardly around each other once her grandfather left. Nero followed suit and departed quickly, giving excuses that neither Dante or Christine really heard. Something between both of them had changed, and it was easy for anyone to tell. It was a rift forming between them, a wedge pushing them apart.

Memories were filling Christine's head. She withdrew from the main floor and spent the rest of the night hidden in her and Dante's room, curled safely under the covers. Image after image flashed in her mind, some painful, some good and yet hard to think about. She remembered years of peace at her grandfather's mansion, times when her family had been whole and happy.

Then she remembered the others times - such as when she'd received her scars. These memories, though unwanted, reappeared in her mind's eye again and again. She bit her knuckles to keep from sobbing, but she did not cry.

It was not nice to look back and remember. It was both numbing and excruciatingly emotional - a fight between her need to pretend she didn't feel anything anymore and the pain she still held within. And she couldn't be around anyone, least of all Dante. She could not let them see her this way, to let them know of her weakness. Weakness led to coddling. It led to questions, like "Why are you crying?" It led to pity, and more pain. It was a deadly cycle.

In the midst of her crying Christine realized that her fear of being pitied by Dante, of what Dante might think of her, it stemmed from growing emotions inside her. Her plan to get closer to Dante in the hopes of dating him had turned against her. Now she really knew him - truly cared about him. She actually liked him. Just his smile made her heart flutter, her voice break.

That was the most heart wrenching of pains. Knowing that she actually did care for Dante Sparda, and that she, the wretch that she was, did not have any chance with him, nor did she deserve him at all.

-=-=-

Dante, meanwhile, was downstairs with a deep set frown on his face, eating three slices of pizza and feeling heavily disappointed for the first time in his life. He'd thought it was impossible to feel so jilted, so sad while eating pizza. A chemical incapability. It looked like the one and only Christine had proven him wrong.

The man took a violent bite of pizza, taking out his frustrations on his meal. He just didn't get it! Okay, so Christine had pretty much saved her own skin. Cool; nothing wrong with that. Dante had still played his part, running to the rescue when his girl needed him. So why was she avoiding him? After the few words they'd shared when her grandfather had left, she'd fallen silent and said not a word. She wouldn't even look at him, and finally just ran upstairs and stayed there.

 Women these days! Wouldn't even give a guy a break. After all that fighting, he'd expected to be rewarded by a little gratitude, or at least a bit of fun verbal war. Instead he was faced with silence, his house feeling emptier than it had since her arrival. With another big, angry bite of pizza and an irritated growl, Dante realized he'd made a big mistake.

He'd actually fallen for the girl, for real. No little fling, not just a flirt, not a "bang and leave her" kind of fling. He actually cared for Christine, wanted her to be happy and safe.

He was screwed.

-=-=-

 The situation was no better in the morning.

Dante remained in bed for hours, moping. Even after Christine had gone on to school, he remained in bed, wide awake. He hadn't slept at all. Instead, he'd kept his eyes on the girl sleeping beside him, had reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear; had kept a quiet vigil over her all night. How romantic and utterly sickening.

Dante was a lady's man, and he did love and care for them. He had a heart. But he'd never been... been... in love? Was that it? No, it wasn't really being "in love" yet. But there was a highly dangerous probability that this pansy, gut wrenching feeling inside him would morph into the real thing, and that couldn't be allowed. Dante had a playboy reputation to defend.

Eventually he decided to stop pitying himself for being in love, for having his girl ignoring him for some reason. So he got up and got some pizza. As he was eating it, a strange thought occurred to him. It tasted a little strange - kinda different. It just wasn't as good as it usually was. It took him a moment to realize that what he was eating was pizza from the delivery place, and that it just wasn't as good... as good as... Christine's pizza.

Dante devoured the rest of the slice and stomped back up to his room, diving into the comfort of his bed to sulk.

-=-=-

Christine hadn't wanted to get out of bed that morning. She had wanted to remain at home and sleep all day. The only reasons she didn't was because she'd missed so much school she was bordering on dropping out anyway; and because remaining in bed meant remaining near "him", and that was the last thing she wanted.

Well, not really, but it was the last thing she needed.

After a long and tiring day, Christine returned home with a mountain of school work and a migraine pounding in her head. She grumpily threw her things on the couch and moved to the fridge to find something, anything, to eat. For once she didn't care if it was healthy, she didn't care if it was deep fried butter dipped in fat. She just wanted to eat.

She dove into a bag of potato chips, collapsing on the sofa. A perpetual look of anger was on her face as she munched on the goodies. Her thoughts wandered from her crappy school day to Dante to her Grandfather, then back to Dante. Then she remembered something.

Their date.

They'd been set up on a date by Madison. And it was supposed to be happening that very night. The girl snorted and rolled her eyes. "That's definitely not happening" She muttered with a smirk. Looked like she'd gotten out of it.

Somehow though, she felt slightly disappointed. She'd been looking forward to it in a weird way. Christine sighed and set down the chips, heading up to the bedroom. Imagine her surprise at finding Dante still in bed, dead to the world. He was sleeping upside down, one leg off the bed, a little drool on his lip. It was very endearing to Christine, and that made her frown. It should be stupid looking, not endearing. The woman retreated and returned downstairs.

A thought occurred to her. She glanced back up the stairs. Then, she accepted something in her mind, smiled, and skipped down the staircase.

-=-=-

The house smelled nice when Dante woke up. The man groaned a little, and then let out a curse when he felt his wet lips.

"Disgusting." He was Dante Sparda, lady charmer; he did not drool. Ever. The man huffed and wiped it off, frowning. He blamed Christine once again, as was his new habit.

Then the smell came back to him. Curious, the man stood and stretched. Where was that coming from, and who in the world was cooking it? He sleepily wandered into the hallway and downstairs.

The heavenly aroma was coming from his kitchen of course. The kitchen table, which was hardly used for eating and was more commonly a poker table, was set with utensils and dishes, and two candles were lit and set on it. Other than the candles the lightning was pretty dim. Something was bubbling on the stove, and Christine was busy in the kitchen, filling glasses with water and doing other assorted dinner chores. She was so preoccupied she didn't notice Dante sneak up on her, a smirk on his face.

"What's the special occasion?" The man's smirk became a grin when Christine stiffened. She turned and glared dryly at him and he chuckled.

 Her look softened at the sound. "You forgot too, huh?" The girl smirked when Dante blinked, lost. "Our date."

It suddenly hit him; the date Madison had set them up for. He'd totally forgotten, what with the insanity of the day before. Before he could say anything, Christine continued as she began to dish up her plate.

"You looked really tired, and I know I am, so I figured we could just stay here and have the date." She ignored his gaze shyly, moving past him towards the table.

Dante was feeling more smug by the second. "I'm surprised you didn't just blow me off and let me sleep through it."

Christine frowned at him. "I said I'd do it, so I am. What, you change your mind?"

He winked, crossing his arms over his chest. "Not at all." If possible Christine became redder as Dante looked her up and down. "But that's not really the way a lady should look on a date." He motioned to her sweatpants and baggy black shirt.

"You didn't really dress up yourself." She retorted. All Dante was wearing was his pants.

He grinned. "I'll dress up if you do."

They stared each other down stubbornly.

"Fine!" Christine finally sighed. She stomped towards the stairs, calling back, "You'd better be quick! Food's getting cold." Dante couldn't help but smile.

Christine made a bee line for the bedroom, rushing to her corner of the room were her clothes were gathered. She didn't have much in the way of fancy clothes, but she dug through the piles in an attempt to find something. As she did, Dante entered the room and crossed to his side, already unbuckling his pants. Since she was used to his blatant and uncaring attitude towards nudity, Christine simply turned her head and continued looking for something.

 She found something to wear quick, and satisfied, stood to leave and get dressed elsewhere. But once she stood and turned around, she came face to face with her half dressed date. Frowning, the girl made to move around him, but he moved with her.

"That's what your wearing?" He frowned, staring at the dress.

"Yes. What of it?"

He snatched it from her and shook his head. "It's a moo-moo."

"It - It is not!"

Ignoring her, Dante moved to the pile of clothes and began looking for something else. Christine, displeased, nevertheless let him look, sitting on the bed with a huff. He scanned through them quickly, only pausing once to grin like an idiot and play with her bra. She smacked his head and grabbed it from him.

"All right, this one." Dante held up a rather sexy number; just like in the song, it was a little black dress, strapless and going down to mid thigh. It wasn't slutty, but it was nowhere near as conservative as what Christine was used to. The girl flushed and her mouth dropped.

"Where did you get that!? That's not mine!" The girl knew she'd never buy something so - so - so sexy!

The man grinned. "Your friend Madison dropped it off while you were at school. She said she knew you didn't have any real date clothing." Christine began to seethe, silently plotting the painful death of her beloved best friend. Her date could only smirk.

Still, out of pride, she snatched the dress from him and stormed off to put it on. No, she would not back down and let Dante think she was a shy, frightened little girl. Oh no.

-=-=-

The bravado and pride melted as soon as Christine put the dress on and looked in the mirror. She paled, and quickly glanced away with an angry grimace. She couldn't - she couldn't wear this! It was - it was hideous.

With a scathing glare at the mirror, Christine turned around and tried to think of a way to get out of her predicament. Put on her clothes and disappoint Dante? Climb out the window and run away? Sighing, the girl realized that she had no options but to walk out the door in the dress, which she sadly resigned herself too. Still her feet wouldn't listen to her. Why wouldn't they move?

A knock came from the door. "You comin' anytime soon?" A familiar baritone asked. Then his footsteps faded down the hall and the staircase. He was waiting for her in the kitchen. Sighing, Christine decided to go ahead and get it over with.

-=-=-

When Christine walked down the steps, Dante glanced up with the eagerness of a child, grinning ear to ear. He'd never seen Christine dolled up, and couldn't wait to see what her form was like when it wasn't hidden by baggy pants and hoodies.

When he looked up, his first response was for his mouth to drop open. He'd never thought of Christine as sexy or gorgeous, but damn, she was currently accomplishing both very easily. The black dress was form fitting, ended at her mid - thigh, and showed a good bit of cleavage. It was the most of Christine's skin Dante had ever seen.

The girl approached and came to a stop a few feet before him, eyes to the ground. Both of them became stiff and awkward at that moment, glancing about shyly and fidgeting with their hands. They looked anywhere but each other. Neither moved or said anything. it was similar to two teenagers in love who are oblivious to the fact that they both feel the same way for each other. Dante and Christine remained quiet and unmoving, as if breaking the pause would be a terrible thing. It was as if the moment was life changing, and one mishap would turn the beautiful moment into a debacle. Their relationship had truly changed from one dynamic to another with this moment. No more joking about it, no more dancing around the subject... they were having a date. And they were both acting like shy school children.

Finally one of them was brave enough to move; Christine sighed and stomped over to Dante. She cast a critical gaze over his attire. he was surprisingly wearing a suit, but the shirt was untucked and only half buttoned, and his jacket lazily drooped on the edges of his shoulders.

Christine immediately began tucking his shirt in for him, which took Dante by surprise. He recovered quickly. "You know, I don't think we've gotten to the part of the date where you stick your hands down my pants." He smirked at Christine's blush, and tried to ignore how close together they were. _Is that... lavender?_

"If I have to look nice, so do you." She proceeded to button his shirt, when Dante finally took over.

"All right, I've got it." He fixed himself up, straightened his jacket and buttoned it. "Better?" He asked with a mock bow.

 She huffed, arms crossed. "I'd ask you to get a tie, but dinner's getting cold." Christine moved to the kitchen, and Dante followed.

"Don't think I own one." He admitted.

They dished up their plates in relative silence. To his credit, Dante did pull out Christine's seat for her, but otherwise he wasn't exactly a polite gentleman. Still, Christine was quite taken by his appearance. His broad shoulders and strong thighs were perfectly outlined by the suit, his toned muscles just barely hidden by thin cloth. Christine noticed the man had failed to button all of his shirt buttons, leaving the collar open, but she didn't berate him for it. Like the stubble he had neglected to shave, the look suited him very well.

"You should really invest in a new wardrobe." Dante broke the silence with a wolfish grin. "All those baggy shirts and sweatpants - I had no idea you had such a figure!" Christine flushed scarlet and grimaced. She wasn't sure whether to be insulted or not.

"S - Screw you."

"Anytime."

Dinner began; Christine had made green beans and mashed potatoes, with steak and rolls. Dante had piled on enough for three people on his plate. "Lemme guess," Dante smirked as he stabbed his green beans. "It's all healthy food, right?"

Christine smirked. "Don't complain; I almost made a salad." The man pretended to be horrified.

"Damn! I got off lucky!" christine rolled her eyes, but smiled besides.

"So..." A minute passed before Christine spoke. "My grandfather promised he was gonna back off." She said. Dante listened patiently as Christine explained some of what had happened between her grandfather and her.

"Guess I've gotta be a real gentleman now, huh? Now that granddaddy's on guard." Dante chuckled and kept eating, and did not notice Christine's look drooped. She lowered her hand, her eyes fell to the floor.

Dante shoveled some food into his mouth, glanced at Christine, and did a double take. "You all right?"

She shook her head as if waking up and nodded. "I'm all right, I'm just..." She sighed and set her fork down. "Just wondering why I'm here. Why I'm here instead of at home in my crappy apartment."

Dante stared at her emotionlessly, as she squeezed her hands nervously.

"I don't... I mean, I came here so you could protect me from grandpa. But until yesterday, he'd only really attacked me once. I've been pretty safe. And now he's backing off... I just don't understand why you let me stay here. Why haven't you kicked me out yet?" She glanced up at him for an answer, and though no vulnerability or weakness showed on her face, Dante's answer had the potential to break her heart.

The man grinned after a moment's reflection. "Do you really think I'm such a scoundrel I'd kick a lady out?" He waved his hand. Christine cocked an eyebrow.

"You know what I mean." She stared at him.

They were quiet for a minute.

"What do you want? For me to tell you... I'm alone a lot." He looked at her with a serious gaze. "I'm not lonely, just... alone. I've got more friends than I've ever had, but ... well, suffice it to say I don't see them as much anymore. I go work, come home, have a beer, repeat the next day." He sighed and brushed a hand through his hair looking entirely frustrated and embarrassed.

Christine watched in fascination. She'd never seen Dante so out of his element, so exposed. For once he wasn't in total control and he even looked a little flustered. It was... cute.

"So, I'm not kicking you out. There's still a new demon around to keep on eye on, but so far he hasn't targeted your family or you. You'll probably be safe at home. I won't keep you from leaving."

"But..." Christine tried to keep from smirking.

He sighed. "But... I like having you around here." He admitted haltingly.

Once he finally admitted it, Christine beamed with a bright grin. The grin made Dante's nervous jitters calm down.

"To tell the truth..." She shrugged. "I hated my apartment. I ... hated my life, before. Monotonous and dull. Hanging around with you has led me into demons, danger, and death, and I like it."

When she grinned at him, he couldn't help but let out a barking laugh. "So, you're gonna stick around for a while?" Dante asked, returning to the meal.

Christine smirked. "You couldn't kick me out if you tried."


	10. The Hot Guy has some Thoughts

Pizza Delivery

Chapter Ten: The Hot Guy has some Thoughts

Dante and Christine had diner together and talked amiably; afterwards came dessert (chocolate for Christine, pizza for Dante), and then Dante assisted Christine with dishes. Both people had enjoyed themselves greatly, and seemed to be walking about in a bubble of happiness, permanent grins on their grins.

Afterwards they sat together on the couch watching TV, but they did more talking than anything. eventually they decided to play video games, and a few hours later, the date ended on that note.

"Shall I walk you home, my lady?" Dante joked, faking a sophisticated accent.

"That's a little redundant if we're heading the same place." Christine smirked. Her date shrugged and put a hand on her shoulder.

"I simply thought that offering would be the gentlemanly thing to do." He grinned and Christine sputtered with laughter. He frowned.

"I'm sorry, it's just, you're the most slovenly and dirty man that I know, in both body and mind. Gentleman is not a word I'd use for you." She laughed again when Dante feigned insult, hand over his heart.

"I'll have you know that I have started washing my clothes at least once a week." The man pretended to bow as Christine clapped.

"I'm so proud." She joked. "Now you're only slightly less smelly and disgusting."

"A real man works all day and has the odor to prove it." Dante retorted.

"A real man bathes."

"I bathe!"

"Once a year really doesn't count."

They continued to banter as they always did, slowly moving towards the staircase. It was almost one o'clock, and the two were still awake, arguing, but something had changed. Their arguments had sometimes become heated, even a bit vicious in the past. But this debate, despite its overtones of insult, was not serious at all. They really were just playing, and were only slightly serious; while in the past their debates had been serious and only a little playful. Something had changed, and both parties knew it. But neither was afraid anymore. Whatever relationship existed between them, they would let it go as it would, and hope for the best.

-=-=-

The next day brought fog over the city. Citizens went about their business, and students attended class. Outside of one of the city's more prestigious colleges stood a tall man dressed head to toe in black.

For the entire day he stood leaning against a tree in the woods, eyes trained on the building, never moving. Students moved to and from classes under his watchful gaze.

One particular female student seemed to keep his gaze. The man fingered the pocket watch in his hand, eyes ghosted over, unconsciously, continuously whispering...

"Not yet... not yet... soon... not yet..."

-=-=-

For once, the school day did not drag on endlessly for Christine. It was hardly as troublesome as usual, or perhaps her head was so high in the clouds she just didn't notice. She sauntered through the hallways with a confidence she didn't usually exude. The people were still stupid, but Christine found she was gracious enough to forgive them. Her professor handed her back one of her papers, and her grade was magnificent. Christine left the class beaming.

When the final bell rang, she left the building with a smile for the first time in her life.

-=-=-

Dante wasn't at home when Christine walked through the door. The woman dumped her things on the couch, and glanced at the dinner table with a forlorn smile. If she had been girl-ier, she might've giggled.

Instead, she put on her sweatpants and sweatshirt, and went to the kitchen for a snack. The phone rang as she did.

Christine answered professionally, sitting on the kitchen counter with an apple in her other hand. "Devil May cry, badass for hire, how may I help you?"

The voice on the line laughed. "Last time I called, you said 'dumbass for hire'." Christine grinned at the voice.

"Well, I felt like being nice today." She waited for his chuckles to die down. "What do you need, Nero?"

"Actually, I called for you." He explained. "Dante's on a mission out of town and he told me I should entertain you."

Christine chuckled. "He's an idiot. But I guess you could come over."

"Cool. My girlfriend's coming along too, she's curious to meet you."

Christine's face looked like it had been jolted by electricity. Her mood shifted, but she nodded, slowly. "Uh... yeah. Sure thing." _A girl? Another demon? Another stranger?_

"Be there soon." Click!

The phone hung loose in Christine's hand for a moment, until she got the sense to set it down. Then she heaved a heavy sigh. It was the same kind of sigh as a performer about to step on stage, still waiting in the wings, trying to summon strength through their mouth.

-=-=-

Across town, Dante walked up the steep steps leading to East Bell College of the Arts, hands in his pockets. He sauntered through the doors and into the entryway, glancing around with slight interest. From the other end of the hall came a man in a business suit, who greeted Dante with an extended hand.

"Yo." Dante waved, ignoring the invitation to a hand shake. The man shrugged it off.

"Welcome, Mr. Sparda. I'm Charles Dean, you talked to my assistant on the phone?" Dante shook his hand with nonchalance. "I'm the school superintendent. If you would follow me." The conversation continued as the two veered to the left.

"Your reputation and your business are well known around here; which leads me to be concerned about your coming here." The man was sweating and nervously wringing his hands. "We shouldn't be expecting some sort of... attack, should we?"

"No, no, no." The hunter held up his hands. "A kidnapping, maybe." He stuck his hands back into his pockets. "I'm working for one of your students, Christine Moss."

The man's face changed completely. "Ah. I see. You work for the Moss family?"

"No, just Christine." This surprised Charles, who didn't seem to catch on.

"Well then... I suppose it will be the usual treatment then?"

"Usual treatment?" Charles looked even more confused and winced, realizing he was digging a hole for himself.

"So, you aren't her usual guard?"

"No." Dante crossed his arms. "Who did you think I am?"

Charles set his face in a determined frown, though there was a bit of fear in his eyes. "I'm afraid I can't say. I've already said too much. If you aren't here representing the Moss family I'm afraid you'll have to leave."

And apparently that was that.

-=-=-

Ten minutes later found Christine wringing her hands and cutting a line into the floor with her pacing back and forth. She did not want to go out shopping, but as a gesture of kindness in the hopes of making friends with Nero, she was going, and she was dressed in her best: her nicest pair of blue sweat pants, converses, and instead of a sweat shirt, a baggy black tee. It was a step up from her usual attire, but not much of one.

Color flushed her face and she bit her lip, when suddenly two heavy knocks came from the door.

_Please let it be more assassins or demons here to kill me_, the faithless woman prayed.

She opened the door, and found not more dangers, but Nero, slouched with one hand in his pocket, his demonic hand back in the sling. Just behind him was the stranger.

She was a young woman, just a bit younger than Christine, with brown hair and an innocent round face. The new woman smiled and spoke first.

"Good morning." She chirped shyly. Christine stood rigidly, eyes trained on the woman, and in response Nero's girlfriend seemed to deflate, wondering if she'd done something wrong. Nero frowned.

"Uh... hey. Christine, this is Kyrie, my girlfriend. Kyrie, meet Dante's newest victim." Nero introduced them, glancing from the shy, shrinking girl to the frozen, emotionless one in the doorway. His joke hadn't made as much as a laugh or a denial. "Uh...." _What the hell is this?_

"You, uh, gonna let us in?" Nero finally asked. Christine still remained frozen in the face, but her body moved out of the way. Sheepishly she trained her eyes on the floor.

"Make yourselves at home..." She muttered. Kyrie stepped in after Nero wringing her hands, head down.

The boy stood by the open door, and turned to Christine. "So, we still going out?" He motioned to the open door. Christine's face paled and she said nothing.

"Um, N - Nero... we shouldn't make her do something she doesn't want to..." Kyrie muttered. The man frowned deeply at the sight of Kyrie's pathetic look, and he glared at Christine.

"What the hell? She said she wanted to on the phone!" Then he addressed Christine. "What the fuck's in your bonnet, huh?"

At that, Christine turned on her heel and rushed out the door so fast the other two hardly saw her. She stormed down the stairs to the car Nero had driven there, opened the back door, got in, and slammed it shut.

Nero and Kyrie remained just inside the house, staring after the woman.

"Well... this isn't how I pictured today going..." Nero groaned, rubbing his forehead. Kyrie placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry..."

"It's not your fault!" Nero insisted. "You haven't done anything! Maybe she and Dante got into a fight... or something..." He finally just sighed, shook his head, and went out the door. He waited for Kyrie to follow, and then shut it behind her.

-=-=-

_People._

People, people, everywhere. Touching her shoulders, her skin. Looking at her. Christine set her face in the cruelest, darkest, teenaged goth girl grimace she could, and trailed after Nero and Kyrie with shoulders slumped.

They were in the mall, wandering aimlessly at a sad attempt to get to know one another. Nero didn't care where they shopped, he had figured the girls would shop and he'd follow. Christine never went to the mall, and didn't like shopping, so she didn't choose a store. Kyrie was nervous and afraid she would disappoint Christine again, so she didn't pick a store. All in all, the three made quite the hopeless trio, walking circles around the mall.

"Okay, are we actually gonna shop, or was this trip a waste of time?" Nero huffed in annoyance, adjusting his sling. Kyrie glanced at him, and then back at Christine. The other woman kept her eyes lowered.

"Um... would you like to pick a store, Christine?"

The other woman's body jolted like she'd just been spooked. Kyrie jumped back in surprise.

"No thanks." Christine muttered. Kyrie turned her eyes ahead and frowned, wondering what in the world could be wrong with the girl. Her fear and nerves had changed into concern.

"Are... are you all right?" She finally asked, shyly glancing back. Christine walked stiffly like the tin man.

_No, no, no, no, no._ "Fine." She muttered. Kyrie knew that wasn't the truth, but did not pry.

"Maybe we could use some lunch?" The girl asked her boyfriend. Nero shrugged, and looked at Christine.

"You hungry?"

Finally the girl glanced up a little, eyes hidden by hair. She spoke quickly. "Long as its not pizza." Then her gaze returned to the dirty ground.

Nero and Kyrie glanced at one another, and shared small smiles. At least it was a start.

-=-=-

Instead of pizza, the three sat together at an Italian restaurant.

"I say no pizza, but this is about as close as you can get to pizza without pizza. All the tomato sauce and cheese reminds me of Dante." Christine muttered. Though the words weren't exactly kind, at least she was speaking. Nero ribbed her right back.

"Thinking of Dante?" He grinned cheekily. "I'll have to tell him that he's on your mind." The girl frowned.

"Yes, he is, I'm always busy thinking of how best to painfully rip him apart and then dispose of the body."

They were three of the only people in the place, so the waiter came quickly and the food even quicker. The table was rather silent after the initial conversation: Christine was staring intently at the things decorating the walls, while Nero and Kyrie seemed to both be wondering what the hell was wrong with this woman. Nero was a little miffed; she hadn't acted this way at all when it had just been her, him, and Dante. Kyrie was more concerned that Christine might be hurting, and this was her way of showing it.

The food came, and Christine hardly touched hers. Nero swallowed his whole, and Christine handed her plate over to him.

"What? You don't want it?" He asked, bewildered.

"Changed my mind." She shrugged. Nero's brow furrowed. Now he really was weirded out. This was just not the person he'd met days ago!

A group of college students, a few girls with their boyfriends, entered the restaurant and were escorted to a table. One of the kids was wearing a school jacket, and Nero noticed it was the same as Christine's. On their way, a few eyes landed on Christine, and a bit of whispering started. Christine didn't seem to notice, but Nero did. With his heightened senses, he could hear them.

"That's the Moss girl, isn't it? Rich brat right?"

"Brat's not the word I would use." One of the girls muttered.

"What? Bitch?"

A brunette shook her head violently. "More like ghoul. There is something seriously wrong with her. Her family's so weird."

"Rich people are like that. They think they're better than everyone else because they have a yacht, three houses, and their own personal zoo."

"I dunno, I just get the creepiest feeling around her... like I'm gonna get swallowed up in the ground..."

He watched them as they sat at their own table. They kept glancing at her, the looks on their faces being either curiosity, confusion, or a bit of apprehension. They didn't seem to be her friends, or to like her all that much. Nero frowned, and figured that if Christine acted this way at college, no wonder they didn't like her.

But she was such a cool girl... Nero remembered the "babysitting night", when they talked and played video games and had a blast. She'd been a lot of fun, with a lot of interesting stuff to say. She'd had an edge to her, but she hadn't been a total bitch like this.

He ate Christine's meal half heartedly, lost in his thoughts, while his girlfriend tried to speak to the woman.

"So... how did you and Dante meet?" The younger girl wondered.

Christine glanced up and away quickly. "Stroke of bad luck."

"Did he save you from being attacked by demons?"

"No. I meant that meeting him was bad luck, really bad fucking luck." The girl took a sip of her water and that was that. Kyrie blinked.

"Oh... I see..."

Every other conversation the girl tried to start ended similarly, until Kyrie was left disheartened. Once lunch was over, they left the mall, and got back in Nero's car.

"Well... guess we're goin' back to Dante's." Nero huffed and started the car. This had been the worst idea he'd ever had. He stewed over the ruined day as they drove back to Dante's house.

They pulled up in front of the building, and Christine jumped out. Nero sighed, and remained seated.

"We should at least say goodbye." Kyrie murmured. Nero didn't say a word, getting out of the car and slammed the door so strongly the car shook.

Christine had already gotten to the door once Kyrie and Nero got out. She remained in front of it, hand hovering over the doorknob. The two others approached the porch and stood at the bottom, waiting to say goodbye. Thousands of thoughts raced through Christine's mind, and her face hardly changed at all. Slowly, tentatively, she turned around.

"There's, uh... we've got some soda in the house." She offered. Nero and Kyrie's eyes widened. "And beer, if you like that. We could..." She turned around fully. "Dante's got this karaoke machine... if you want." Her voice trailed off and she lowered her eyes to the doorknob.

Nero, who had only a moment ago been steaming in his anger, felt it abating a little bit. For the first time he had a different look at the girl. What, to him, had earlier been a rude and degenerate posture, with stiff, frozen limbs and a cruelly cold expression, was now the nervous, shy appearance of a young woman, with a frightened appearance and a flushed face.

Kyrie bit her lip and tugged on Nero's sleeve. He glanced at her, and heard her silent plea. He let out a sigh.

"Sure, why not?" Nero began climbing the stairs. "I've got nowhere to be." Kyrie smiled ear to ear; Christine seemed to ease a bit, and she nodded, opening the door to let her guests enter in.

-=-=-

As Nero was charged with fetching the drinks, Kyrie and Christine messed with the karaoke machine.

"Dante listens to a lot of crap." Christine huffed. "I never knew he was such a metalhead."

"Metal isn't crap!" Nero called from the other room. He was ignored.

Kyrie kept looking through the list. "I don't know what to pick... I don't really listen to music." She admitted.

"I guess I do..." Christine said. "But I doubt Dante has my kind of music on here."

Kyrie glanced up at her. "What kind is that?"

The girl glanced away. "Uh... well... whatever I guess. I don't really like a genre, I just like different songs. Y'know..."

"I see. What songs do you like?" Kyrie's smile grew a little as Christine's fluster grew.

"Uh... I like stuff by Five for Fighting."

The girls eyes lit up. "Really?" Kyrie smiled. "Me too! '100 Years' makes me cry every time." Christine nodded.

"I like their 'Two Lights' CD. It's a bit newer, but its good too." The girls had found a connection, however small, and they moved on to see if, by some strange possibility, Dante had Five for Fighting on his machine. He certainly didn't, but Kyrie managed to find something she liked.

"Aw! There are Disney songs on here!" She giggled. "I can't imagine Dante watching a Disney movie. It must have been put on here by one of the girls."

Nero set the drinks on the table, and plopped onto the couch as he opened his. "Somehow, I can't imagine Trish or Lady liking Disney either. Gushy crap." Kyrie glanced up at him and smiled.

"I thought you liked watching them with me." She said with a pretend - hurt voice. Nero flushed, and glance off with a set frown.

"I like watching them with you." He admitted. "But they're so mushy and silly."

"Love is like that." Kyrie said in response.

As the two lovebirds bickered, Christine read over the list of Disney songs on the karaoke set. Her eyes lit up and she smirked, as she thought of a way to cheer Kyrie up, and perhaps annoy Nero at the same time, which sounded perfect to her.

"Hey, Nero." The girl called. "Help me out for a sec, wouldya?"

-=-=-

On his way back to his bike, Dante pulled out his cell phone, and dialed.

"_Heeellllo, this is Maddy, who be this_?" A cheerful voice answered. Dante smirked.

"Oh, just a guy in need of a little help." He winced when the voice squealed in his ear.

"_Dante! What a nice surprise_!" Madison giggled. "_So what kinda trouble is my Christy in now?_"

The man chuckled as he revved his bike, and started for the road. "I'm not sure." The man frowned. "I don't know if she's in any trouble right now, but I'm trying to keep her from getting into any."

"_That's impossible._"

"You're telling me."

"_So how can I be of service_?"

The hunter frowned and wondered how to word his question, what exactly to ask. "I need to know about Christine's family." He began. "Whatever she's involved in, it's cause of them. Has she told you anything about them?"

"_Not a fucking thing_." The girl sighed. "_She never talks about her family, at least, not her mom's family. Y'know, the super rich ones_." The sounds of movement came from the phone. "_The truth is, her family has always been really, really weird. It's not something I can put my finger on... it's just strange. Like Christine's mom_!" The girl gasped like in shock. "_That woman is a mess_!"

"How so?" Dante quirked an eyebrow as he turned a corner.

"_How not so, is more like it. She's like a friggin' zombie, it's so creepy. She and Christine's dad got divorced when Christine was little, and her mom didn't even try to get custody. It's just... she's just so creepy_."

"Uh huh." It wasn't solid, but Dante filed it away for later. "Creepy mother, check. That explains at least half of Christine being so fucked up."

"_I know you joke about it..._" The serious tone surprised Dante. The girl sighed. "_but I think you're right. I mean... when we were younger she was just your normal little girl, y'know? But the summer before high school... she spent that summer at the mansion. You know the one._" Dante confirmed he did; he'd been there to rescue Christine. "_She would always spend a little time there, every summer, but never three months in a row. I didn't see her until school started again_."

A bad feeling crept into Dante's heart. This was going somewhere, and he didn't like the direction...

"_Something happened while she was there. I know it. When Christy came back, everything changed. She was just like her mom for a while, a social zombie. She would pitch fits, she'd refuse to go to school, she wouldn't talk, wouldn't touch anybody, wouldn't see anybody..._" The girl's tone grew sad. "_It took years for her to get better. I mean, she's still not the most social body, but compared to back it, it's like a total turn around_."

_This doesn't bode well_, Dante huffed. "So something did happen, and it did have to do with her family. That gives me a clue, at least."

"_I might have one more clue_."

"Hope its not as depressing as the last one."

"_Worse_!" Madison sighed. "_Christine's got this... scar. A really, really big one_." Dante's eyes widened. "_I saw it on accident maybe a year ago. It's... nasty_."

Horrid thoughts came to Dante's mind: blood sacrifice, summonings, demonic rituals... what could her family have done to her, and did the scar have to do with it? He'd have to look at the scar to know.

"Where is it?"

"_Her upper back. It's uh... it's probably something you should see yourself but I gotta warn you, it's disturbing_."

"I've seen a lot of disturbing, fucked up things in my life." That was the understatement of the year. Dante slowed his bike down as he pulled up in front of the Devil May Cry.

"_I'm sure you have... but still... this scar_?" Madison paused. Dante shut the bike off, only half listening to Maddy's worried jabbering, until a few words caught his ear.

"Say that again?" He asked, halfway up the stairs to his house.

The girl sighed darkly. "_It's a name_."

"What's a name?" The man frowned deeply.

"_The scar_!" Madison repeated. "_The scar is a name... like somebody used a knife for a pencil and wrote in her blood._"

-=--=-

Dante approached the door to his home with a confused mind and heavy heart. What greeted him at the door was strange. A foreign, yet slightly familiar melody was playing inside, muffled by the walls. It was slower than anything he ever listened to, and he had no idea what it was. Stumped, the man slowly opened the door and stuck his head inside.

All of the furniture in his front room had been pushed away from the center of the room, near the walls. Now he recognized the song playing from his juke box: "Beauty and the Beast", from the Disney movie of the same name. In the center of the room was Kyrie and Nero, embracing one another, and awkwardly slow dancing across his rug. The girl was beaming like the sun, and Nero resembled the sun for a much different reason having more to do with the heat coming off his face in waves. He was red as a brick wall.

A big smirk came from Dante and he had to laugh. The dancers jumped, glanced to the door.

"Oh! Hello, Dante!" Kyrie grinned at him, and her happiness was infectious. He grinned back.

"Hey, graceful." The girl blushed but beamed at the compliment. The man turned his gaze to Nero, who was purposefully avoided his sight with an embarrassed frown. "So, looks like your two left feet aren't just on the battlefield, huh?" The younger glared at him.

"Shut up!"

Dante held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry. Far be it from me to interrupt your romantic moment. Here;" He approached the machine and replayed the song. "To make up for the interruption."

Kyrie looked excited; Nero looked like he was about to lose his lunch. His girlfriend pulled him to the center of the room again, thrilled, and though Nero was mortified, he had to smile at the childishly happy look on her face.

The song began again, and the two started their dance. Dante watched for a moment, before approaching the only other person in the room, standing at the back wall.

"How in the world did this start?" Dante whispered to Christine, leaning against the wall beside her. The woman smirked.

"I felt like getting blackmail on Nero and this came to mind." The man laughed.

"Great idea. No, really."

Christine frowned a little. "Well... we decided to have a kind of bonding day. Nero wanted me to meet Kyrie. But I totally screwed it up." She admitted with a huff, rubbing the back of her head. "I wanted to make it up to them, and I figured this kind of thing was right up Kyrie's alley."

"You figured right." Dante glanced back up at the cheerful girl, holding Nero with nervous yet excited hands. Christine grinned at them.

"They are cute." She said. Dante chuckled.

The two watched for a moment more. Each had their arms crossed, leaned against the wall, eyes on the lovebirds.

"So... wanna dance?" Dante asked with a smirk and a quirked eyebrow. Christine let out a heavy sigh.

"How did I know you would ask that?" She frowned. The man turned a suggestive gaze on her.

"It's not like I'm asking for anything risque. Just a little innocent dance to a children's song. It's supposed to be romantic."

"From you, it becomes perverted and a total chore."

"Aw, you've hurt my manly feelings." Dante pretended to pout. Finally Christine got off the wall and extended her hand.

"You've got one chance. But the first time I heard a lewd joke, or your hands stray anywhere..." She insisted.

Dante gave a little bow, hand on his heart. "I swear not to impose on your honor."

Christine rolled her eyes, grabbed his hand, and dragged him to the floor. "Come on, let's get this over with!" He grinned at her flustered appearance, and awkward pose. She stood in front of him, arms crossed, glancing at him as if wanting to ask what to do. Dante moved her limbs gently, placing them where they should be. He held her hand; Christine gulped at the sight. His hands were so large compared to hers, swallowing her tiny palm up. Dante was warm, and they stood close together, so that the heat warmed her body. Or was that her cheeks getting warm? She couldn't tell.

The woman said nothing, and moved with stiff, nervous legs. Dante didn't comment or joke, instead accomidating her horrid dancing skills. They remained mostly still, swaying back and forth, holding each other. Nero and Kyrie, on the other hand, moved all around them, with awkward steps and fumbles that embarrassed Nero but made Kyrie giggle. Each time she laughed, Nero's eyes lit up.

So Dante and Christine stood in the center, very still, hardly noticing the other two near them.

"K - Kyrie! Watch out! You almost hit the table!"

"Its because you don't dance with me, you wait until I move to start moving. Don't be shy Nero! No one here is judging you!"

The teen glanced at Dante and huffed. But for once, Kyrie was right. Dante wasn't paying him a lick of attention. Nero noticed the peaceful look on the man's face. Dante wasn't really looking at anything, just standing with Christine. The older man let out a long sigh, and closed his eyes, leaning forward.

Christine noticed his relaxed state, noticed him leaning forward. She let him move closer, until they were resting their foreheads together. She felt nervous, felt terrified, but she closed her eyes. Christine let him cradle her, let his scent surround her... _leather and pizza_. _What a strange and comforting combination._

"Where did you learn to dance?" Kyrie giggled.

"Your brother, actually." Nero glanced away shyly.

"Really?" The girl asked, a serious look on her face.

"Uh - yeah. I kinda asked him to teach me so I wouldn't be... well, I wanted to know in case... this..."

Kyrie beamed. She closed the space between the two of them, surprising her date. She squeezed him tight, and the boy beamed. And they danced a little more together, but just as awkwardly as ever.

In the background, the song continued, beginning to wind down.

_Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, beauty and the beast..._

-=-=-

Nero and Kyrie remained for hours after that, joining Dante and Christine for dinner. The four had a great time, and by the end of it Christine felt totally comfortable around Kyrie. She apologized for her earlier actions, but the younger girl shrugged it off.

"It's fine. We shouldn't have forced you to go." Christine didn't know how to explain her nerves, how to make up for her actions, so she sighed and nodded. Nero and Kyrie left soon after, and the house grew quiet.

The furniture was back in place, and Dante sat at his desk. Christine waved to him as she moved to the stairs.

"I'm headin' on to bed." She muttered. "I'll see you in the morning." The man nodded.

"Night."

"Good night."

The house became silent, the sky darkened; perhaps an hour later, Dante stopped working at his desk, setting his papers aside. He stalked silently up the stairs to their shared room. Slowly, he opened the door, and glanced inside.

Christine had long been lost to sleep; Dante entered the room without disturbing her, and approached his side of the bed.

He walked with stiff steps, and a bit of nerves, to his closet. He was about to changed, when his eyes glanced at Christine again, glanced at her back. The man wondered on what to do.

It took only a moment for him to turn quietly to the bed, and gently sit on the edge. His hand moved to the collar of her shirt. For one more moment, he hesitated, and then took hold of the shirt and pulled it gently back, glancing down at the skin.

And there, just as Madison had said, was the atrocious blemish on Christine's skin. It crossed her upper back from shoulder to shoulder, and was perhaps an inch tall. A shudder of horror and anger shook the hunter, as he saw this horrid scar and realized that, sure enough, it was a word, a name.

There, in blood red letters, her back read:

**ELTON MOSS**

**-=-=-**

Forgive me for taking so long to update. I blame Dragon Age. BTW, there's a line from that game in here, kudos if you catch it. XD

Once again, sorry, and I hope to update more frequently in the future.

SULHADAHNE


	11. The Hot Guy Gets a Letter

Pizza Delivery

Chapter Eleven: A Letter for the Hot Guy

Another day of school, another pile of homework, and another empty house Christine came home to. It didn't feel empty to her though; Dante's scent lingered everywhere, and gave the place a strangely comforting, safe feeling. It was perhaps the only place Christine had ever felt totally safe in.

The woman smiled as she walked in the door, setting her school things on the couch and approaching the fridge. Something on the counter stopped her.

There was a pile of letters and bills but one had been set aside, with her name on it. Christine's stomach turned. With hesitant fingers, she picked it up, and tore it open.

When she saw it, her face turned white. "Damn it all..." Her hands gripped the paper tightly, as she reread and reread the title.

_The Foundation of Our House welcomes you..._

-=-=-

Dante, while out biking around for information on the Moss family, received a call. He didn't mind the interruption, his search had been fruitless anyway.

"Yo?" He answered.

"Dante!" It was Christine, breathless. "Come back to the shop, and make it fast!"

A spark of alertness and worry shot through him. "Everything okay?"

"Just come back!" Then she hung up.

Before you could say "u-turn", Dante had spun his bike around quick and sped home.

-=-=-

Dante stormed through his front door to find Christine still at the counter, letter in hand. She shoved it his direction, and he grabbed it from her.

"What's this?" He asked.

"My death sentence." She mumbled. Dante began to read.

The official looking letter had the Moss family seal on it, and the body of it was written thusly:

_We, the members of the central house, welcome all of the Moss family and her direct cousins to our humble home on the outskirts of East Bell, for our annual Reverence for the Calling Ball._

"Reverence for the..." Dante squinted. "What the hell is this?"

With a sigh Christine pulled a beer out of the fridge. Dante eyed her curiously. "I need this." She muttered. Then she began to explain.

"Back when America was just a itty bitty baby country, our family was a lot smaller, and we were the only demon hunters around here. It was a dangerous time to live in anyway, with weather and lack of food and indians and whatnot, but the demons made it hell. Our family protected the populace."

"So, to thanks us for it, once a year the citizens would attend a Ball at our home and pay us 'reverence'. That's how we first ended up with a mansion; they gave us the governor's mansion as a payment."

"Bad luck for the governor."

"My great ancestor was the governor; part of the payment." Christine explained. She drank a sip of the beer, and flinched from the taste, but kept trying it. "That kept happening for years after, even when other demon hunters surfaced. Eventually it was a family affair, a way for all the branches of the Moss family to have a yearly reunion, especially after the Big Fire almost killed us all."

"That fire..." Dante frowned. "How old were you then?"

"Little. I don't remember a thing." She explained. "That happened at one of the Reverence Balls, and a lot of the family died. We're a lot smaller now."

"So? What's so bad about this one? Just don't go."

Christine huffed, and finally gave up on the beer. It wasn't helping settle her stomach. "The Balls always happen in the summer."

Something clicked in Dante's mind. _She would spend time at her Grandfather's every summer... that summer she went the whole three months... the Ball always happens in summer..._

"For some reason, they've changed it. I should've known Grampy wouldn't give up. He's still trying to get me away from you." She frowned deeply. "And I can't not go. Everyone HAS to go. HAS to."

The man frowned too, and quirked an eyebrow. "No, you don't." Christine almost chuckled.

"You really don't know these kinds of families do you?"

The hunter shrugged. "Not really. I've worked for one or two of these richy riches."

The woman kept his gaze, stared at him. "I have to go. And it's not gonna be pretty, whatever Grampy's got planned. He could tell the whole family I've been staying here, and get them all to vote it down."

"Vote it down?" Dante almost laughed, approaching the counter and setting the letter on it. "What, are you kidding?"

"That's part of the Ball's purpose. We get together and vote on things, which college this cousin will go to, who this person will marry, where this person will live. All my grandfather has to do is mention I'm living with you and there will be a vote, and I assure you it won't be for us."

Dante did burst into laughter at this point. "Are you fucking kidding me? What kind of family does that!?"

Christine stared at him like he had three heads. "What family doesn't?"

Dante stared at her like she was a maniac. They continued to stare.

"I don't know any families that choose their children's path for them like that. Mostly, families guide their kids and help them, but the kids choose what they want for themselves." Christine made a face.

"That's... weird."

"You're weird." Dante's stomach clenched. _Brainwashing, check_.

Christine sighed deeply and put her head in her hands, and for a moment, Dante felt a little guilty. He hadn't been treating the situation very seriously. Reaching out, he hesitated, before putting a hand on her shoulder. The woman jumped, and he brought his hand back quick.

"Uh, sorry." He mumbled. Red faced, Christine shook her head.

"You just surprised me. S - Sorry." She glanced away. Then she sighed and stood from her stool.

"It says the event is in a week or so." She smiled and tried to crack a joke. "Least I've got a while yet to live." Neither one laughed.

"Look..." Dante, scratching his head, let out a sigh. "There's gotta be a way around this. If you go there, you know your family's gonna lock you up." She nodded.

"I can't just not go. I'll have to face them, and... I'll convince them Grampy's wrong." She nodded. "Who knows? Maybe they'll see my side." Somehow her voice said she doubted it. Dante doubted it too.

"I'm tired. I'm gonna go take a nap." Christine told him, heading for the stairs. Dante nodded.

"I'm going out again." He replied, grabbing his keys from the counter.

"Wake me up when you get back." The woman called. Dante didn't reply; he watched the top of the stairs where Christine had disappeared, worry obviously filling his eyes.

-=-=-

Thus far, Dante had tried looking inside every office building, in every official file, in every town history book and old newspaper, but mentions of the Moss family were few and far between. Even the Big Fire had sparse details on the family, other than listing those lost to the tragedy. Dante had kept that list, in case it became necessary information later, but other than that, he was still on square one.

"Dammit..." The man drove around town aimlessly, trying to think of a new direction. The new big, bad demon in town still hadn't made a move, and Dante didn't want to approach him until he had an idea of what he was after.

_Are the two really connected? If so, how?_ Dante had never been so stumped after a mission. Usually, he just had to walk in, kill some things, walk out. It had never been such a mystery before. The image of the scar passed through his mind and he almost flinched.

_I've got to figure this out, before something happens_. He frowned.

Suddenly his phone rang. _Christine again?_ He answered.

"Hello?"

"_Dante Sparda_?"

Definitely not Christine; this was a man's voice. "Speaking. Who's this?"

"_My name is Gary Young. I'm calling about my daughter, Christine_."

Dante's eyes grew wide. "Wait a minute..." He thought over a few things, remembered a few details about Christine's life. "You're the average joe that Christine's mom married and divorced in the course of a month or two."

"_That'd be right_." The man didn't seem too torn up about it. "_I've heard you were hired to protect my daughter. I didn't know she was in danger_."

"I'm sure your daughter didn't want to worry you. And I can promise you she's safe."

"_Still, I think you and I need to have a talk_." Gary murmured. "_I want to know what's been happening_." The hunter thought about it for a moment, sighed, and glanced at the gas station on the side of the road. He pulled into a parking spot and turned the bike off.

"Well, here's the gist of it." Dante began. In a few short sentences he explained Christine's situation and what was happening.

"_Hmm... I thought something was up. I received a letter as well, since I'm an official 'member' of the Moss family. I never go to those things. But I'm terrified that Christine will go_."

"I've been trying to convince her not to..."

"_Don't even try reasoning. It won't work. I want you to physically keep her from going_."

Surprised, the man couldn't speak for a moment. "Uh, sir? We are talking about your daughter. What do you want me to do, lock her in the basement?"

Gary sighed into the phone. "_If that's what it takes. There hasn't been a ball since Christine started high school, and now suddenly they're doing it again? This just reeks of the Moss family's strange dealings, and I don't want Christine mixed up in that._" Dante's mind flashed.

_The year before Christine started high school she spent the whole summer at her Grandfathers... hasn't been a ball since before Christine started high school..._

"I feel like I'm playing detective..." Dante mumbled.

"_What_?"

"Nothing. Look, I'm just as worried about Christine, but she's finally started opening up to me and I don't want to hurt her trust by totally ignoring her wishes and locking her up." The man adjusted the phone. "I can always go with her to the ball and keep an eye on her. Trust me, I'm good at keeping an eye on people."

Christine's father heaved a heavy sigh. When he next spoke, it was the plea of a desperate man. "_I'll trust your judgement then. I've always thought well of the Sparda family, and I know the truth of the kind of stuff you face. But please try to understand that I love my daughter, and for all her life I've had to watch helplessly as that family dragged her into its secrets. I don't know for sure what they are and what they do, but I know it's not something I want my daughter in. I can't stop it, but... maybe you can_."

Listening to the heartfelt speech, Dante felt even more than before how important his mission was. It wasn't like other missions, where the fate of the world rest on his shoulders; but the well being of a young woman depended on him. Somehow the weight felt just as heavy when he listened to her pleading father and felt his helplessness.

His mouth was slightly dry, but Dante managed to speak. "I swear to you that I'll keep her safe. You can hold me to that."

The other man chuckled slightly. "_That I will_." The hunter smiled.

-=-=-

For the little bit of time Christine was able to sleep, it was fitful, and hardly restful. She awoke covered in sweat, brow furrowed, and threw the covers back with an angry curse. The woman stormed into the living room, put on a violent movie, and tuned out her mind for a few hours.

Her choice of film was the typical bloody fighting flick; her eyes glazed over as she watched, and for a good hour and a half, Christine hardly moved. At one point, during a fight, a fire broke out. In mere seconds, the building was engulfed in flames, licking at the ceiling. The TV screen filled to the brim with red death, and Christine stared.

What was this recognition? This vague sense of remembrance and fear?

And... and a distant voice... a child's voice...

"_Daddy!"_

KA - THUNK

Christine sprang to her feet, holding the TV remote as if it were a knife. "Who's there?"

The room was silent, but for the TV. Christine paused it, and scanned the room warily. "Don't fuck with me; who's there!"

_Hahaaha!_

An echoing, eerie laughter filled the room, turning Christine's stomach. It wasn't a pleasant noise. Again the laughter echoed; it was a woman, Christine realized, head spinning around. It was... it was coming from...

 Just as Christine turned to face Dante's wall of armaments, she saw a figure melting out of the shadows. First a foot, then a leg, colored a strange green, and naked, came from the darkness. Christine watched in shock as a naked green woman, with long red hair, came out of the wall, and stood smirking before her.

 A moment later, what seemed like hundreds of bats filled the room. Christine shrieked, falling to the ground with her arms over her head, as they swooped round in circles. The animals surrounded the green woman, becoming darkness, turning into a sort of dress that covered her lower half. With a swoop of her elegant arms, the woman brushed her red hair forward, over her breasts.

"_Why, hello_," The otherworldly voice murmured. It seemed to come from every direction, even from inside Christine's mind. The woman glanced up, shaky, and backed away.

"Are... are you a demon?" The woman asked as she began to stand, using the couch for support.

Pleased, the woman nodded. "_That I am_," She gestured at Christine with a long finger. "_And you, my dear, are the strange thing that my master has been keeping_."

"Strange thing?" Christine frowned.

The woman stepped forward. "_I am Nevan_," She gave a slight curtsy, smirking, the motion allowing some more skin of her legs to be exposed. Christine frowned, blushing. "_One of the demons Dante defeated in battle, and now I live to serve him_."

_Oh, I bet you serve him, all right_, Christine thought with green envy. "That's really nice and all, but what are you doing out? Dante's not here."

The creepy laugh came again. "_Oh, I know. That's why I'm here. I wanted to get to ... know you better_." More laughing, which twisted Christine's nerves. "_While the master's away... the girls can play..._"

Christine didn't realize she'd been backing away until her back hit the far wall. Frightened, she clenched her fists and faced the demon. "Leave me alone."

Nevan didn't stop approaching, the shadows on her long legs growing wider across the floor. The darkness seemed to seep into the room, surrounding the poor human. Heart racing, Christine decided to bolt, racing for the stairs, but the shadows morphed and blocked the door. Suddenly a giant hand came from the blocked doorway, reaching for her, and with a scream Christine raced away, tripping over herself. The hand only just missed her.

She had escaped one danger only to land in another; Nevan leapt at her, arms latching to her, the shadows dancing around her legs. Screaming, Christine struggled, kicked, and bit at her captor.

"Let me go, demonic bitch!" The woman snarled, trying to head butt her.

"_You really don't know how lucky you are, do you_?" Nevan murmured into her ear. "_The master never keeps one woman for very long, and its only ever for a quick fuck. But he hasn't even bedded you yet_." The demon looked confused. "_I don't understand why not; he's never waited so long before._"

At that point Christine managed to get enough leverage to deliver a heavy head butt to the other woman's forehead, and for a brief moment, she almost escaped. But the demon recovered quickly, snarling angrily, and grabbing the woman by the hair. Christine cursed vehemently as Nevan dragged her back.

"_Perhaps I'll tame you first and leave whatever's left of you for the master. How does that sound_?" Then she licked Christine's neck from base to jaw, and the woman let out a frightened gasp.

As the demon continued her unwanted attentions, Christine's eyes blurred with tears. The TV across the way caught her eye. She saw the paused scene of the fire, felt the earlier faded memories return: the crackling of walls as they collapsed, the thunderous boom of the ceiling caving in, the terrible heat of the flames.

"_Daddy!"_

In a sudden move of extreme dexterity, Christine sucked in her chest, leaving room for her thin arm to slip free; she elbowed the demoness in the throat, and felt the shock of it relax the demon's shadows. Christine continued by grabbing her by the neck, slamming her head into the floor, before flipping her over, bending her arm and sitting on her back. In that brief moment when the demon was in shock, Christine reached across her body to the table beside the couch, opening the drawer.

Smirking, Christine found just what she'd expected: an extra gun that Lady and Trish had tucked away for her, "Just in case". This seemed like as good a time as any.

But instead of aiming the weapon at the demon, Christine closed her eyes and opened her mind.

"_Cado unus, sententia non reverto vos ut abyssus terra, vadum signum vos pro totus vicis._" With that, Christine lifted the weapon and aimed at the purple guitar on Dante's wall. Nevan screeched, scratching at Christine with the shadows, but the spell had already begun to take affect. _ "Reperio pacis in ops._"

Three shots fired from the gun in quick recession, adding to the wails of the demon, before hitting the guitar and destroying it. It looked as if it had been bent in half, as the bullets suddenly began to melt, and changed into three small circles bearing the Moss family crest.

Christine found herself kneeling on the floor, shaken, and bleeding a bit, but the demon was gone. After a moment, she let out a shaky laugh, and moved off of her knees.

"I'm surprised that worked..." She mumbled. "Haven't done it... in so long..." She leaned against the wall, her humor disappearing. The woman closed her eyes and fought the tears.

After a while, the adrenaline, panic, and fear finally faded, and a new feeling settled into Christine's stomach.

"Damn it!" She shouted, tossing the gun away. "Broke his fucking guitar."

-=-=-=-

When Dante returned home that night, he found the house empty, with a plastic bag on his desk, and a check signed by Christine, with the amount still blank. A small note beside the bag briefly explained.

_Went out. Owe you for the guitar. Sorry._

CM

Shocked, Dante glanced at the black bag on his desk, eyes wide.

"Nevan?"

No reply. He leaned over, opened it, and sure enough, it was Nevan inside. A very strong sealing spell was keeping the demon quiet and locked in.

"Did Christine...?" Shocked, the man almost laughed. He could feel Nevan's fury, and he wondered what had brought the two to blows. A bag feeling in his gut made him glare at the weapon.

"What did you do?" Unable to speak, Nevan merely fumed. Dante shook his head and walked over to the couch, sitting down. He'd would let Christine go on her own for a little; she'd proven she could handle herself, anyway.

Outside, the clouds had grown dark, the moon obscured. Dante glanced at it as he turned on the TV. "Huh... storm on the way..."

If only he'd known how true his words were.

-=-=-=-

For almost an hour Christine wandered aimlessly around town, as the first drops of rain fell upon her back. Her legs burned from use, feet sore, so she eventually found a fire escape, and climbed onto the top of an old apartment complex. The ladder groaned and moaned, and her skin slipped on the wet surface as the rain really started coming down. With a mutter, she pulled her hood up, and climbed up onto the rooftop.

Christine settled down, cross legged, hardly bothered by the weather. Soon she was soaked to the bone, leaning on her knees with her head down. Her earlier scrapes and cuts were still bleeding, the blood diluted by the tears from the sky.

Biting her lip, the woman didn't cry, but she felt anger, anger at her own helplessness. She was in a horrid situation, not knowing the way out, the way to freedom. For so long her past and her family had held her tight in its jaws, and she had been resigned to her dim future.

Then, a strange anomaly had appeared in her life, a handsome man who just might be interested in her. Simply being near him went against everything her family had ever told her, because he was a demon. And Christine found she didn't care. With a chuckle, the woman was reminded of her novel, her characters, and smiled.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, reminded Christine of other thoughts. She knew the independence, the joy she'd found with Dante and his friends was fleeting. Grandpa wouldn't stand for it long; the Revelation Ball was proof of that. The idea of returning to see all those people, knowing they could control her fate... it terrified her. The woman clenched her knees tight.

Feet splashed through the puddles on the roof, and Christine slowly glanced up. Black boots were approaching her, long legs dressed in leather... but despite the seeming resemblance, this... this wasn't Dante.

Christine's eyes kept traveling upwards. These legs were attached to a tall, thin man, with wet, messy black hair, and tanned skin. He appeared hispanic, perhaps even a native Spaniard. The only reason he did not fit the usual appearance of a debonair Spanish gentleman was his eyes; they were a strange, vivid yellow.

Spooked a bit by his sudden appearance (and still a little jumpy from earlier), Christine leapt to her feet and clenched her fists.

"What do you want?" The woman snarled. Immediately the stranger held up his hands in surrender.

"Only to talk." The man murmured with a thick accent. They stood staring each other down for a moment, before Christine shrugged.

"Well, if you're gonna, go ahead." She mumbled, backing away a little, but letting down her arms. "Don't try anything."

"Of course not." The man made a low bow, hair falling over his face. "You may call me Ashma."

Christine nodded. "I'm Christine... but I have a feeling you know that."

Ashma straightened up and smirked. "I would be a horrid spy if I didn't know that."

"Spy for who?"

"Not your family..." He murmured, leaning against the nearby rail. "That's for sure." It continued to storm, lightning flashing in the distance behind the man. In the bright light, for just a moment, Christine thought she saw something other than a man. "I'm spying on you for a friend."

"Right..." The woman frowned. "Forgive me if I'm not relieved." Chuckling, the stranger once again held up his hands in surrender.

"I am not an enemy, that I can promise, though I see my word means little at the moment." Ashma mused. "No, I am here to deliver a message... a proposal."

Christine, feeling fidgety and nervous, wrung her hands. "Uh huh." She was only half listening. Something about this man put her on edge. "And what's that?"

The man opened his arm, reached under his jacket, and brought out a scroll. Even out in the rain, it did not get wet. Hesitantly, Christine reached towards the scroll. Ashma shoved it into her hand finally, and a sudden itch burned her hand. She tried letting go of the scroll, but was unable.

"What the...?"

"It would be no good if you lost if before you read it." Ashma smirked. "It's a contract."

"Contract...?" Irritated, Christine frowned and angrily gestured to the man. "Look, demon, cause I don't know any humans with eyes like that, leave me the fuck alone! I've got enough immortal badasses bugging up my life already!"

In response, Ashma merely laughed. "Spirited. My master said you would be." Grinning, the man didn't seem the least bit put off by her words. "We're not trying to 'bug' your life, we're merely trying to guide you."

Glaring, Christine crossed her arms. "I don't like being lied to, or kept in the dark."

A different kind of glimmer came to the demon's eyes, and a kind of predatory smirk came to his lips.

"Of course." Ashma muttered, his voice like velvet. A shiver traveled down Christine's spine. "I never could deny a woman."

-=-=-=-

After about an hour of not hearing from Christine, Dante began to feel a little worried. He read her note again; she hadn't said how long she'd be gone, or where, but he had a bad feeling...

About that time, his cell rang. Dante answered and was surprised to hear Lucia shouting into the receiver.

"Dante!" She shouted. "I'm trailing the demon!"

Immediately the man switched mentalities. "Has he done something? Where are you?"

"We're downtown near the bar; it's revealed it's demonic aura, you can probably sense it. He's got a human with him."

Dante's eyes widened. "You know who?"

"Can't tell, I'm too far away, I can only feel them."

"I'm on my way." Dante was halfway to his bike by this time. "Don't move in unless he threatens someone, I'll be there soon!"

With a click, he shoved his phone into his pocket, let out a curse, and hit the road.

-=-=-=-

Ashma's changed of attitude disturbed Christine somewhat, but she did not back down. Her family had made sure she knew a little about demon slaying, and she could hold her own.

Still, the raw power radiating off of this one... it chilled her to the bone. _I've got to be fully alert here... _More lightning crashed and thunder rumbled as they stood on the rooftop. The wind began blowing wildly.

"So? What's the deal here?" Christine shouted. The smirking demon crossed his arms.

"It's simple. My master would like to entrust you with some valuable information." Ashma began, eyes fluttering between dull yellow to cat like and violent.

"Sounds terribly one sided. What's he get?" Her voice sounded stronger than she felt. Christine's stomach was wound in knots.

"Giving you the knowledge will be reward enough for him. He simple hopes you will act on it... and he believes you will." Even more confused than before, Christine glanced at the scroll.

"And this?"

"The final deal. My master reveals to you a certain truth that only he knows; in return, you take this information and use it as you see fit." The demon laughed at the baffled look on her face. "Hahaa,_ son todos humanos divirtiendo tan como usted señora pequeña?_" After letting out a quick, happy stream of Spanish, Ashma addressed her again. "It will benefit him that he tell you this great secret. At least hear what he wishes to tell you; afterwards, should you decide not to act on it, _eso es lo_, you go home. If you do..."

"Then I sign this thing?" Christine held it up. Ashma nodded.

"And my master will aid you in getting a sweet revenge that has been long in the making." Christine's eyes widened, as she realized.

"Ah... vengeance. Now I see. _ Conseguir venganza es siempre el motivo, no es, señor?_" Ashma let out a deep rumbling laugh as the young woman showed off her high school level Spanish skills.

"_Si_." He answered. "Shall you speak to my master?"

The woman waited for a moment. "Not without Dante." She finally muttered. "He's my... body guard. I won't talk to your boss without him."

Ashma listened to this, and sighed. "Ah_ maldice_, and here I thought we'd get through this whole affair without the use of force."

Hearing that, Christine raised her fists. "I'm not helpless, buddy."

Amazingly huge, and beautiful black wings appeared suddenly behind Ashma, whose eyes were brilliantly yellow now. "You might as well be,_ afronte a señora_." The enormous wings kept spreading out, and up, as tall as the man and twice as long; his hair grew longer, softer, his smile spreading into a fanged grin.

"Shit." Christine glanced back to the ladder. She had to get off the roof; those wings would be useless in the back alleys on the ground. She spun around and raced across the wet roof, thunder deafening her, only to feel her feet leave the ground as arms wrapped around her waist. Christine screamed, but it was no help as the ground became more and more distant.

Meanwhile, on the ground, a familiar engine was roaring through the streets. Dante, eyes scanning the area, felt the presence of the demon, who was no longer bothering to hide his demonic power. But now, being so much closer, Dante could sense the other person.

"CHRISTINE!"

Snarling, Dante turned his bike and revved, spinning across the water down the street Ashma was flying above. His eyes flashed red, fangs growing, as he chased after them. Christine could hear his demonic roar from above.

"DANTE!" The woman could feel them going higher up, and knew he would not catch her. She did the only other thing she could think to do. "HIS NAME IS ASHMA! HE WORKS FOR SOME MASTER WHO WANTS REVENGE! THEY WANT ME TO -"

Ashma knocked her in the back of the neck, and Christine was out. A moment later, he turned and smirked down at Dante, and winked as the darkness swallowed the both of them up.

Dante's bike slid across the water as he came to a halt, breathing hard. "DAMN IT!" The man cursed. He threw his helmet to the ground so hard it broke into pieces. The demon, eyes totally red, roared at the sky.

"_**DAAAAMN IT!**_"

Footsteps came through the storm towards him as Lucia approached. Dante had begun to pace angrily, fists clenched.

"**I'm so goddamn tired of this fucking Sherlock mystery shit**!" Dante snarled, eyes red. "**Just point me at the bad guy and let me kill something damn it**!" He kept pacing. Then, he made a sudden stop and stormed towards his friend.

"**Did you know that Christine's got this mother of a scar on her back that somebody probably carved into her? It's a name, one of her family's names. These Moss people have been fucked up for centuries, they've got some tie to demon hunting, another of those fucking weird cults or some shit...**"

Lucia listened patiently as Dante paused again, grimacing angrily and breathing hard. "I**... I just... I was supposed to protect her! I can't stop this fucking family, I couldn't stop the goddamn demon, I can't even get her out of her fucking shell half the time**!" Finally the man put a hand to his head, beginning to calm a little. "What the... what the hell am I doing? I don't even know where to start this time." He looked at her, and Lucia felt it tug at her heartstrings. She'd never seen him look so desperate. "I've never fought an enemy like this. I don't even know who I'm supposed to target. How am I supposed to protect her when I don't even know who or what's after her? What's this family shit all about anyway?"

After his tirade was over, the two stood in the rain together, Lucia allowing Dante to collect himself. "First, I think I'd find out who this Ashma is; Demons with actual names are rare, so it probably won't be hard to find him listed in a history book somewhere. Talking to the family might help. Are there any relatives who might be on our side?" Lucia wondered.

Dante, after a pause, reached into his pocket. He removed his cellphone, pulled up the received calls list, and looked up a number.

 In a moment, he was calling it back, phone back on his ear. Lucia walked away to her bike, heading off to do more research, as Dante began a conversation on the phone.

"This is Dante Sparda again. Yeah. We need to talk..."

-=-=-=-

An hour later, Dante pulled his bike up in front of an old, little house, hidden by trees in the older part of town. The rain was still pouring from the sky.

The little house seemed trapped in an earlier time, with the porch light floating through the screen door. Someone was standing in the open doorway, framed by the light, waiting for him.

"Come on in," Gary Young murmured, eyes dark and voice low. He headed inside.

Dante hesitated, feeling a piercing guilt attack his gut. It was a rare moment when his confidence and self assurance failed him, but currently, it was. Eventually the man got over his nerves and stepped into the little porch, removing his soaked jacket and helmet, before going into the house.

"Trying to take a bath out there?" Gary mumbled. Dante let out a small chuckle that didn't really reach his eyes.

The two men were in the kitchen, were two mugs of coffee sat, black. Gary sat on the far side beneath the dim lamp light, and gestured to the other side.

"Take a seat."

Dante, a much larger man, settled awkwardly on the stool, eyes down. Water dripped off of him onto the floor. The two were quiet for a moment; Gary examined Dante with a small smile, before glancing back down at his coffee. He was rubbing the mug nervously.

"I... I'll do everything and anything I can. I'll tell you what I know, but it's not much." Gary mumbled. Dante felt his guilt triple.

 The two met eyes, and Gary let out one last sigh.

"First, I guess I should say I'm not actually Christine's father."


	12. Estranged from the Hot Guy

Pizza Delivery

Chapter 12: Estranged from the Hot Guy

"_We all love you..."_

"_I love you... so very much... if nothing else, believe that."_

Gradually, Christine felt consciousness creep in, as her blurry dreams crept away. She really knew she was awake when a monster of a migraine hit her full force. Cursing, the woman slowly sat up and rubbed her head.

"Buenos dias."

Christine snapped up, swiping at the direction the sound came from, eyes furiously wide. The speaker leapt away gracefully. As her vision cleared, Christine glowered at the crouching form of Ashma. The woman sneered.

"Fuck you."

The demon merely laughed as Christine stood on wobbly feet.

"A pleasure to wake to in the morning, aren't you? In fact, I wouldn't mind finding out how much of a pleasure..." Christine's eyes flitted back to him, expressing disgust, but the Spaniard merely winked.

"Where the hell am I?"

"Hell, actually." Ashma smirked.

Christine's face fell, eyebrow twitching. "I should've known." The decor around her gave it away; dark, craggy walls of rock, tinged with blood, reaching out into never ending darkness. The two of them were in a small cavern, near a dead camp fire.

"My master's home is not far from here. I can make the flight in perhaps ten minutes, and then you can speak to him. I promise it won't be long before you're back in your own world again." Christine was pointedly ignoring him, standing and stretching her legs. When she did glance his way, he smiled kindly, and she frowned.

"Don't try and play nice. I know what you are."

"You know what Dante is too, but you seem to play nice with him." Ashma's smile became a grin when Christine became red faced and wide eyed. "I told you I've been spying on you."

"That's why you've been in town so long. You've been watching me."

"Of course. And your devil hunter boyfriend did not find out because I did not need to stalk you or use some other crude means to learn more about you." The demon stood, body seeming to unfold, and Christine felt a spark of primal fear hit her when he reached his full height. He could see that in her eyes, looming purposefully with a playful smirk.

Biting her lip, Christine backed away. "Fine. Let's make this quick."

The man obliged by immediately wrapping an arm around her waist and bursting forward, flying out of the tunnel with lightning speed. Christine would've screamed, but bit her lips to keep from doing so.

A moment later and they were in the free air, hundreds of feet above the damned earth. Christine glowered at her captor. "You do know you're a dick?"

He shrugged. "It's in the job description."

The rest of the flight was awkward and quiet, and Christine remained stiff, limbs frozen in place. Ashma didn't seem to notice, and before long, they were making a soft land on frozen ground.

Feet safely on the floor, Christine jumped away from the man, crossing her arms. She took a look around.

This part of hell was much different from the rest, or from the archetypical view of what Hell should look like. It was entirely frostbitten. Ice covered everything, and large spikes of it shot up into the sky. A large mansion loom ahead, a sheet of ice running over its entire surface. Cold permeated the air.

Shivering, Christine rubbed her arms and headed for the door. Surely inside the damned abyss of hell would be warmer.

It was not. Chagrined and pissed off, Christine turned and immediately grabbed onto the demon's jacket. She stole it, setting it on her own shoulders, and then they were off.

The inside of the mansion was dark, quiet, foreboding, with an architectural style that was clearly gothic inspired. Floorboards creaked, and the ceiling was lined with cobwebs.

"This place is designed like a bad halloween set," She mumbled.

They kept going down the same long hallway, long after Christine had expected a turn to appear. They never moved from that hall. She tried not to dwell on the strange length of it since they were, in fact, in hell.

Finally they came to a pair of double doors, one with a demon carved into it, the other an angel; but the angel had been attacked by a knife, it seemed, as the carving was destroyed.

Christine stood in the front of the doors hesitating. She sighed. "Let's just get this over with." Ashma stepped ahead of her, bowed, and opened the door with the demon upon it.

Slowly, Christine stepped in, eyes on the angel. How beautiful it must have been before someone crudely and foolishly decimated it...

Inside was almost total darkness. Christine stood near the door, unsure of moving forward, when the voice spoke.

Welcome.

The woman frowned. "Who the hell are you?"

The light of a fire dimly began lifting the darkness in the room. Christine could vaguely see an arm chair, turned away from her, in front of the fireplace.

_I have many names._

The woman snorted. "That's a line in every horror movie."

_Today, I think my name shall be..._סמאל_._

Somehow Christine immediately knew how to pronounce this foreign and ancient word. "And what does ...סמאל want with me?"

The man did not turn or stand. He remained seated, but she could see a charred hand resting on the armchair, old and frayed.

_I wish simply to offer you a choice._

Christine stepped slightly closer. Before she could get much closer, Ashma appeared, and laid a hand on her shoulder.

_You have always questioned your past, and what happened with your family. You only remember some of your childhood, don't you?_

The truth of that statement made Christine uncomfortable. In fact, before high school, all she could remember were the few times she'd spent at her grandfather's mansion, and one or two blurry memories besides.

_You wonder and are unsure... and I love to play devil's advocate._

"Stop being all mysterious and shit. Just get to the point."

The man's hand moved again; it was sickeningly twisted and spoiled by age and burns.

_You are right; here is the point. The secret to what you are missing in your life is in the Museum in the town you just left._

"Museum...?" Christine asked.

_Yes. It is a small stone, smaller than your hand, and the color red. It will reveal all you wish to know. I could simply tell you, but perhaps you had better learn for yourself. _

_But there is more. I wish to make a true deal._

Ashma lifted his hand, and snapped the scroll in the air. It fell open in front of Christine, a good few paragraphs long, with the empty signature line at the bottom.

"And what's this promising?"

The hand on the armchair gripped the fabric tightly.

It promises that you will kill Bartholomew Moss.

The woman startled. "Hell no!"

_And why not?_

"Because he's my grandfather!"

_Is he?_

The woman growled. "Don't mess with me!"

_Here is the deal; swear upon your life that you will, eventually, before the clock of your life ends, kill Bartholomew Moss. On my end, I swear to you to that I will save the life of someone you care for infinitely more._

"What?" Christine crossed her arms then. "Don't talk in circles."

_In the future someone you love will come into great danger, and die. I can prevent that._

"Who?"

_Due to the Law of Fates, I am forbidden from telling you. I've already crossed a line mentioning it._

Christine's heart stopped. Choosing... between her grandfather and someone nameless whom she loved... would it be her father? Or Madison? Or...

She realized something then. Swear upon your life... If she agreed to this bargain, and this demon saved her beloved one, but she didn't kill her grandfather, she would be the one to suffer. Her grandfather would be alive, and her loved one too. Sure she was made at her grandfather but... that was different from killing him.

So, she could save them both. It wasn't like she'd been living for much of anything anyway.

"Maybe, this way..." She murmured. Maybe my life will have a meaning.

A feather pen, appeared in Ashma's hand.

_Do you agree?_

Tentatively, Christine nodded. "I accept."

The pen suddenly pierced Christine arm's sharply, and she winced. Ashma removed it, and handed her the feathered pen, blood dripping down it. She took it and wrote her name upon the contract, in her own blood.

_It is done._

The pen disappeared as soon as Christine had finished writing; her name moved on the paper, turning dark black. The rest of the paper began doing the same. It was as if invisible fire was running up the letters, singeing the document, turning it dark.

"Congratulations, you just made the best decision of your life." Ashma winked at her, stroking her shoulder. She shoved him off.

_Take her back ,_אשמדאי_. __Take her to the place where the gem can be found._

Ashma nodded. "My lord." The hand returned to her shoulder, and before Christine could shove him away again, the world shifted.

Like a curtain lifting off her eyes, Christine found herself looking upon the human world again. She stumbled, falling, but Ashma caught her.

"A bit different in feeling, the two worlds are. Be careful." Again he winked but Christine pointedly ignored him.

"I know this place..." She stood slowly, still dizzy, and glanced around. The familiar grey carpet, the glass display cases; they stood in the Museum.

"Here is where you will find an artifact capable of revealing your greatest secret." Ashma murmured. "It does a great many things... tonight, it will open the door to your past."

He nodded at her, and stood still. Christine glanced forward.

"Well... where is it?"

He merely nodded, as if to say, go find it. The woman was suspicious, but complied. She stepped forward nervously, and began looking around.

Dante sat in Gary Young's kitchen, feeling very much like a child again for the first time in years.

"You're not her father?"

The man shook his head. "I'm not. I don't know too much about the ordeal, but Christine's father was a man that Bartholomew Moss despised. I'm sure you've seen how the family is. They're close minded, secluded, like some kind of secret club. Christine's mother was raised in that world. Marilyn was a quiet girl, always was. I went to school with her."

...

_She arrived at school every day in a limousine with four armed guards. She was the resident rich kid, the spoiled one, and we all hated her for being so high and mighty and never talking to anyone. But really she wasn't proud, she was just horribly off. It was like she didn't know how to communicate with normal people. I was one of the few she would even say hello to._

_We ended up at the same college too, so I was around when Christine's first relationship went downhill. I suppose she had had enough of her family's rules and secrecy; she ran away with some guy she met from out of town. There was a huge manhunt for her. The cops were on it, the local militia had been hired, and the family's own guard was scouring the streets. The way it was, you'd think the president's daughter had gone missing._

_When they finally found her, she was three months pregnant. The cops handed her, screaming and fighting, back to her family, and arrested the man for kidnapping. Of course, she was old enough to make her own choices, and it was hardly a kidnapping, but I'm sure more than half those cops had been given some incentive to arrest him and capture her. Bartholomew had that much influence, especially back then._

_They took her home, and she remained there for months. Nobody saw her. I was worried about her, so I kept sneaking up to the mansion to see. Everyone there seemed tense and upset. One day Bartholomew saw me on his property. I was sure he'd get me arrested right there, but he did the most shocking thing._

"_Would you like to marry my daughter?"_

_Well, of course I wanted to. I'd been in love with her since before I could remember. But I certainly didn't want her father asking me, and I wanted her to be happy. They brought me to her, and I could see she wasn't._

_She was more withdrawn than usual. The baby was only a month or two away then. Sadness permeated the air around her, and I felt bad just looking at her. But she looked up at me, and she grabbed my hand and... "Don't leave me. Don't leave me with them."_

_That was all it took. _

_So we were married, in the smallest and quickest ceremony I'd ever seen. Only my mother and father, her father, and a few of her other family members were there. Marilyn was in tears the whole time. Afterwards, her family members brought us upstairs, and led us to a large room. They let us in, shut the doors behind us, and the two of us found ourselves in a room with the largest bed I'd ever seen._

_They wanted us to "celebrate our union" right then and there... but she was in no state for it, and I would never force her. She was still crying._

_We didn't do it then, or any time after. When the time came for the baby to be born though, I was right there with her. She latched onto my hand again._

"_Don't leave! Don't leave me with them!" _

_I promised I would never leave her. But just as I made the promise, the family body guards came and forced me to break it. I fought back, but as you can see, I'm not exactly the strongest man. They took me from her, out of the room, out of the mansion; they drove me all the way to the city, to a motel._

_As soon as they left I hopped a taxi cab and went back, but when I got there, I couldn't find the place. It was just gone._

_It would be three months before I saw "my child" or my wife. _

_Marilyn looked dead on her feet next I saw her; but the baby girl... she was beautiful. The happiest, blondest child. When I walked into the room Marilyn handed her to me... and walked away._

_I knew then, more than ever, that the woman I loved had been mercilessly killed, somehow, by her own family. After that, I never saw her smile, hardly heard her talk, and she walked like someone with no reason to be alive. She loved her child, that I knew, but she hardly touched her, and refused to be near her. I was so confused, and the family told me nothing._

_We tried, for many years; but when my daughter turned eight, we divorced, Marilyn left, and I never saw her again._

The man fell quiet, hands circling his cup. "I knew then that the Moss family was trouble, and I vowed I wouldn't let Christine get swept up into it and destroyed like her mother." A sad chuckle followed, and Gary glanced down. "I failed at that... failed miserably."

"The summer before high school?" Dante muttered.

"They came to the house and just grabbed her." Gary spat. "Walked right in like they owned it, took my daughter, and drove off. I fought, but they kept me back, and Christine, despite the strangeness and her own fear, trusted her grandfather enough to go with him. Poor girl... they drove off and I went after them, but once again, I could never find the mansion. Just gone."

"How'd she come back?"

"I..." Gary turned away. "There's a part of this story I would hate to tell. I suppose it will come out eventually, but, for now... she showed up at my doorstep one night, clutching herself, and crying bitterly. My worst fears as a father had been realized. The family had broken her too."

"She was in the hospital for months, from wounds... and we were in court for months after that. Bartholomew won, with ease. It hurt Christine so badly to see her grandfather choose to save the face of the Moss family, rather than side with his granddaughter."

"What did they do?" Dante asked, but Gary just shook his head.

"I could never tell. It's not my place, and I doubt Christine would tell you either. Maybe one day." He sighed.

The two men fell into silence. Dante had his eyes on the table, his hands fidgeting. "What about the fire?"

"Fire? Broke out when Christine was a kid, ten or eleven." Gary said. "It was one of those summers. Most of the family was there, and it killed half of them. Barty managed to rebuild the mansion, but for four or five years, the summer trips ended. The next one was the one before high school. Hasn't been another one since, until now."

"Is there anything else you can think of? Any other clues?"

Gary shrugged. "I don't know what would be of any use to you. There is this I suppose."

He stood, and walked up the stairs. "Come on boy." Dante sprung up from his seat suddenly, as if he'd been reprimanded, and hurried after.

They went upstairs and entered a bedroom. It was spartan, with a bed and a table, but a few things decorated it. There was a doll on the bed, one poster of a band on the walls.

"Her old bedroom." Gary explained. He moved to the dresser, leaned down, and took out a book. "She left this when she moved out. I don't think she even remembers it is here." He lifted the hefty book, and handed it to Dante.

It was old, leather, with a large seal on the front. It was a snake, eating its own tail, and there was an inscription beneath it in ancient Hebrew. It burned to touch; Dante winced, but held on anyway.

"Lemme guess; good ole grandpa gave her this?" Gary nodded.

"Third birthday." Dante glanced up in surprise.

"This is..." He shook his head, and tried to turn the pages, but they wouldn't open for him. "This is really powerful. Not something for a kid."

"I'm afraid I really wouldn't know. But I think you'll be able to figure it out." Gary smiled kindly, and Dante felt his heart burn.

"I..." He turned away.

"Don't blame yourself. You've been trying more than anyone to help my daughter, and for that I thank you."

The man turned red in the face. "I promise I'll fix this. I'll stop whatever madness is going on around here."

Gary nodded. "I'll hold you to that young man." He smiled, and Dante returned it.

Suddenly Dante's phone rang. He pulled it out of the pocket and checked the number.

"A friend of mine; hopefully they found something." He opened it. "Lucia; anything?"

Lucia was currently at the library, pouring over a table full of old texts.

"_Found it; the name Ashma was a little ambiguous, but it was easy to discern once I found the origin. It's Hebrew."_

Dante glanced to the book in his hand, which had Hebrew on it. "Okay, what's that mean?"

"_Well_, Lucia chuckled darkly. _Means were in shit, way over our heads, Dante. This isn't something you or I have dealt with before. This is Ancient."_

"What, like Mundus?"

"_More, way more. These guys have been around since The Beginning._"

Confused, Dante frowned. What was more ancient than the damned King of Hell Mundus? "Explain."

"_Think Biblical, Dante. This guy Ashma is "Ashmedai"; Asmodeus, one of the seven princes of Hell. We're talking the original war of Light and Dark, the First Powers."_

"Wait..." Dante glanced at Gary, who looked concerned. "Holy shit."

"_Literally. We're talking the real God vs. Satan war, and somehow, we stepped into it. You've really gotta learn to keep your nose clean."_

"Yeah, but then I'd be out of a job." He smirked a little, feeling some of his usual confidence returning. "Look, we'll talk more later, I gotta go." He hung up after saying goodbye and turned to Gary.

"Thank you for your help; I think we've got a lead now, and I promise I'll bring Christine home soon."

Dante turned to go, but Gary held onto his shoulder.

"Thank you, again,... and..." He sighed. "When you find my daughter please..." Dante watched his eyes grow weary. "Please, be careful. Don't let her fade away like her mother."

The agony was clear on the man's face. Dante gave a slow nod.

"I will."

Christine wandered aimlessly through the museum. She had gone through Impressionist art, Monet, and seen the statue of David, but still had yet to find the gem she was looking for.

"Stupid demon could have pointed me in the right direction..." The woman mumbled.

She now stood within the Rodan section of the museum, which consisted of many, many different statues and carvings. They were all nice, but Christine really just wanted to find the stupid rock and go home.

The woman turned a corner and came to a room with only one display in it.

There it was; obviously the right gem, not only because it felt right, but because it was small and red. Christine stepped towards it slowly, nervous all of a sudden. Her heart thumped in her chest and her instincts screamed, _turn back!_, but she kept going.

The strange gem seemed to be... calling to her...

Dante walked back outside into the night and the rain, moving towards his bike, when he felt something. It was the power of a great demon appearing on the scene... and a human.

"Christine!" The man leapt on his bike, cranked the engine, and raced off into the shadows.

Her hand was touching the glass. The red gem seemed to shimmer with light that wasn't in the room. She looked up; there were security cameras, but Christine had this strange feeling they couldn't see her.

So, slowly, she took hold of the glass and lifted it, unafraid of leaving fingerprints. It came off easy, and she leaned over to set it on the ground. Just as she had stood back up, and reached out to touch the gem...

"Christine!"

The woman spun around, shocked. It was him!

"Dante..." Christine almost ran to him, but remembered something.

Upon your life...

She had signed her life away to a demon. What would Dante think of that? What would he think of her? She back away, behind the pedastal.

Dante entered the room, eyes wide. "Christine! Come on, let's get going before that guy comes back here." He hurried over. "He's sure to notice soon..." But Christine backed away from him, shaking her head.

_I'm not worth your time... _She winced. "Don't touch me."

Dante flinched like he'd been hit. "Christine?"

She shook her head. "Just... just go." _I'll be dead soon anyway. Maybe if you get out now you won't mourn me. _

"What the hell's the matter with you? And what are you doing here?" He glanced around, and caught sight of the gem. "What's this?"

"Don't know." She admitted. Dante moved towards it, lifting his hand to touch it; but when he did, it burned him, and he snatched his hand back.

"Powerful stuff..." He glanced back at her. "Don't tell me you were gonna take this."

"I've got to." She muttered. "I need it."

"For what?"

Christine looked up at him. "None of your business."

"What the hell?" The demon crossed his arms. "Why are you being such a bitch?"

"Why are you always messing with me?"

"What, like trying to save your life?" Dante held up his hands. "You know what? Whatever. Do what you want."

"I will." She strode past him, but he grabbed her arm.

"Look, that's really not a good idea."

_At the front of the building, Ashma perked up. He cursed violently in Spanish, and disappeared._

Ashma appeared across the hall. "Stay away from her!"

Dante turned to face him, and in that moment, Christine reached with her free hand. The man noticed just too late, as her fingers touched the warm stone, and he reached out to stop her hand. Dante's hand rested on top of hers. Ashma saw and his eyes went wide.

"NO!"

It was too late. Both hands touched the gem, and it flashed, colors switching from red to blue. In a bright flash of light, both Christine and Dante were flung to opposite sides of the building, tossed through walls, sliding across the floor. Christine's body hit the bottom of a tall statue, which shook, then slid off its pedastal. The work of art, easily a a few hundred pounds heavy, fell on top of her.

Dante hit the ground bleeding. His head throbbed, his bones ached, his back especially. The man winced and stood.

_Must've been stronger than I realized for it to hurt that bad, _He thought, trying to stand. But he couldn't. For some reason, though it was only a bit of a wound, he couldn't move. Everytime he tried, his head throbbed, his back seared with pain. He tried again and a scream escaped him.

"God damn!" Why did it hurt so much?

Across the room, Christine sat unconcious beneath the heavy statue. Dante managed to sit up just a little, and she her body. His eyes went wide. "CHRISTINE!"

But her hand twitched. The man's breath caught in his throat. Her hand, then her arm, began to move.

"Ugh..." Christine muttered. She sleepily tried to push the statue off of her.

Dante cursed himself and tried to stand again. If he didn't get up, the weight of that statue would kill her! He had to stand and help her! But he just couldn't.

Yet the statue didn't kill her. Dante watched, astonished, as Christine lifted her arms, and began pushing the enormous pieces of the broken statue off of her chest, then her legs. And then she stood, as if she hadn't just been crushed by a rock slide. She wasn't even bleeding. Her legs were wobbly, but she was able to brush herself off as if nothing happened.

Dante stared. He stared, wide eyed; and his eyes got wider as they rose and saw her face.

Her hair... her hair was silver.

Christine looked up at him and her eyes flew open. "Your hair..."

The man slowly, tentatively lifted his hand, which was trembling, and touched his head. He managed to lift his bangs a little, and looked at them.

They were dark brown; dark brown, and coated with blood.

"Dante!"

The man glanced up in time to see Ashma grinning, floating in the air above him. A fist flew towards his face -

"Leave him alone!" Christine was beside him in a second, holding the fist back with ease. Ashma grinned at her.

"This isn't really what we had planned... but what a twist." He threw his head back and laughed.

Outside sirens blared; Christine's head flew up.

"You had better get going!" Ashma faded away leaving naught but air.

The woman frowned, and turned to look at Dante. Her eyes flew open. "Dante!"

To him, she was a blurry figure; her voice sounded so far away...

_Dante!_

_Dante! Stay awake!_

Sleep had already taken him by then, lulled by the blood loss, the wounds, and the sirens.


	13. 1st Chap Rewrite and Author's Note

_Hey, guys! It's been a long time. Now, I know y'all have been waiting for a new chapter since forever, but sadly I've drifted away from this story in part because of how dated my writing is. So, my solution? Rewrite the first twelve chapters and go from there. So there will be new content, soon! Just gotta get through the rewrite first._

_Now for an extensive author's note:_

_1) THIS ACCOUNT WILL HAVE NO NEW STORIES POSTED TO IT. All my stories are being placed upon my personal website, and my new fanfiction account, "tonystarktheautobot"._

_2) ALL STORIES ON THIS ACCOUNT WILL EVENTUALLY BE FINISHED. Most of them are years old, and in an attempt to continue them, I am re-writing them so I can start fresh. These will all be on my new website, a link to which will be in the author's description of both my fanfiction accounts._

_3) I have yet to decide whether I will post the rest of the rewritten chapters of this story solely on my website, or as a new story on my new fanfiction account. If you have an opinion on what I should do, please share, and I'll take it into consideration._

_All of that said, enjoy the rewritten first chapter of 'Pizza Delivery!'_

* * *

_A heart made of fragile glass,_

_A heart made of a broken past,_

_And if everyone hates and him and fears him the most,_

_Even the ones to whom he is close,_

_How can he find a love that will last?_

_- Demon Falls in Love, by C. L. Moss_

* * *

Fists clenched and heart racing, Christine slammed the classroom door behind her and stomped out. She pulled her cell phone out and pressed the buttons almost violently before pushing it up against her ear, a big frown on her face.

"Hello?"

"Madison!" The girl sighed in relief, letting go of a little frustration.

The girl on the other end of the line recognized the anger voice and replied with concern. "Hey, girlie! You okay?"

Brushing a hand through her hair Christine tried to calm herself. "I really need to talk to you. Can we meet for lunch?"

"Of course, I'll be right there. Meet me at that pizza place by your house." Christine nodded and thanked her friend, before shutting the phone and glaring over her shoulder. With thundering footsteps the woman stormed out of the building and into the afternoon light.

* * *

"Hey, what's been going on? You're really red in the face."

"Yeah…"

In the back corner of their favorite pizza place, Christine Moss sat with her close friend Madison Miller; both were college students at different universities in the city, one studying clothing design, and the other literature.

"Damn it, it's my fucking professor." Christine sighed, wiping sweat off her brow.

"What? What'd he do? He didn't touch you, did he?" Madison gawked, color rising in her cheeks. Christine spared a bubble of nervous laugh.

"No – he didn't touch me, that's not - this isn't that serious." Relieved, Madison sat back in her chair.

"Well, then why were you so mad, and so urgent?"

Letting her head hang, Christine closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "He was being an ass again. He's been an ass ever since I told him his darling Sarah Temple cheated on her written essay. Named me in class, used my paper as an example of 'what not to do', I told him to take his essays and shove them up his ass. Then I stormed out."

Christine let her head sink to the table with a tired groan. "I don't think I can stomach college, not another day, not another minute."

Madison reached out and grasped her friend's shoulders. "As a wise fictional professor from _Legally Blonde _once said, don't throw your future away because of one jerk."

"It's not just him. Half the time I wonder if it's even worth it." Christine leaned back, away from Madison's hands. "I don't know what I want to do any more."

Madison crossed her arms and tried another approach. "Come on, you've wanted to write stories forever. And you know a college degree won't help you get to writing, but it will help you get a job."

"A job doing what? I'm hardly going to be paid to make up fictional stories - at least not paid enough - and that's all I'm good at." Sighing Christine turned away from her friend, standing to fill her empty drink with soda. Undeterred, her friend stood and followed after.

"Hey, you called me here. Don't just walk away!" Madison, though a good bit shorter than her tall friend, took firm hold of her wrist and forced her to turn around. "You're a lazy ass, that's why you want to quit. You hardly ever finish anything! Come on, tell me I'm wrong."

Rolling her eyes, Christine sighed and nodded. "So I never finish anything. What's it worth anyway? Half the shit I start sucks." Madison huffed and crossed her arms.

"Superiority complex, that's what you have." She frowned. "You think your writing is better than that professor's."

At the moment, a wide eyed, almost stunned expression came over Christine's face, as if to say that that conclusion should've been obvious. "Well, yeah? He thinks the be-all, end-all of literature is Shakespeare -"

"An opinion I'm pretty sure most of the literary world shares."

" - and reduces Virginia Woolf's importance to a footnote in early feminist thought! Not to mention he's always reading those trashy thriller novels!"

"Says the girl who keeps a bunch of romance novels hidden on the bottom of her bookcase behind her Barnes and Nobles Classic Collection ." Madison quirked an eyebrow. The anger Christine had faded as a blush covered her cheeks.

"Hey – those – that was research."

"Uh – huh."

Now flustered and unsure, the taller girl huffed and stomped over to the soda machine, shoved her cup under the dispenser and pushed the drink button. She didn't hear the door open over the sound of her own thoughts, deep as she was in musing. Madison, however, was very much aware of the man: utterly taken by him, and shamelessly staring at him with a shy smile, she pulled on her friend's sleeve.

"Christine. Christine!" She pulled harder, turning the girl. Her hand slipped and tipped her soda over, spilling it all over her sleeve.

"Aw, dammit, seriously?" Grabbing at the napkin dispenser, she began wiping at her arms in a rush. "What was that for?"

"You're the one who's a klutz, now stop it, and look!" She hissed, forcing her friend to turn her head towards the cash register.

As soon as she rested her eyes on the man at the register, Christine suddenly understood why her friend had so forcefully garnered her attention. Whatever napkins she'd been holding in her hand fell to the ground as her fingers loosened.

"All right, I want two with everything on it, got it?"

The man at the counter was perhaps the most attractive human being Christine had ever seen. It wasn't just the tall, muscular form, barely hidden by tight leather clothes; or the rough, stubbled face which held two brilliant blue eyes and a debonair smile. No, it wasn't just his almost picterseque appearance - he had an aura about him, an attitude which permeated the air. It was hot, thick, and heavy, just the way those cheesy romance novelists always described it when the love interest entered the main character's life. He was sex appeal incarnate, and Christine could hardly take her eyes off of him. When she finally managed, she turned and fled into the bathroom.

It wasn't until Madison attempted to reach out to her friend and caught empty air that she realized Christine was gone, and turned just in time to see the bathroom door sliding shut. Following after, she caught Christine standing by the counter, hands pressed to her rosy cheeks.

"Christy, what are you doing?" Crossing her arms, she nodded her head towards the door. "This is not how we attract hot dates. In fact, this is the opposite of how we do it. So, unless you were completely disgusted by him and are trying to hide here until he leaves, I suggest you get back out there."

"Of course I'm not _disgusted_ by him." Christine spoke thickly, her hands leaving her face to lie facedown on the bathroom counter. She met her reflection's eyes in the mirror and gave a sigh. "You don't think I'd have a chance, do you?"

Madison approached the counter and stood next to her, a kind smile on her face. "Come on," She nodded to the mirror. "What's not to like?"

The image in the mirror was tall and scrawny, wearing a baggy hoodie. Her dark skin was dotted with freckles, and scars littered her elbows, knees, and lower legs from her adventurous childhood. Black hair framed her face and fell across her dark eyes, all wild and untamed, it erupted from her head and fell to her shoulders. She was not unattractive, though perhaps not as much an eyeful as her buxom friend.

"It's not that I don't think I'm attractive, exactly..." Christine sighed and brushed some of her bouncy hair out of her line of sight. "But it's like you said, I never finish anything. I'm not driven to do anything, dating included - or maybe I should say, especially. And I mean, come on, that guy was a total stranger. Maybe he's a complete neanderthal, or lit professor who under-values prominent women writers."

Madison couldn't hold back her laughter, but it quieted down rather quickly, replaced by a thoughtful look Placing a hand under her chin, she gave a 'hmm' of thought, eyes roaming over Christine. It was beginning to make the woman uncomfortable. Then, light seemed to flood her eyes and she snapped her fingers. "That's it! It's brilliant!"

"What?"

"I know how to get your drive back! Get your writing better! How to make you really interested in things again! How to get you off your ass!" Madison cheered heartily.

"Yes, yes, I get it, now what is it?"

Madison placed her hands on Christine's shoulders, and looked deep into her eyes. "You – need a boyfriend."

Storming from the bathroom, Christine frowned deeply and hurried away. "Christy! Come on! Listen to me!" At this last comment, Christine spun around to shoot off a response, but didn't get the chance. Before she could, she felt her back hit something behind her, and she stumbled, falling towards the floor.

"Whoa – Ah!"

Just before she hit the floor, two strong arms gripped her waist. The moment came out of nowhere, and shocked a gasp out of her - and then she looked up and met the crystalline blue eyes of her savior, and that at point there was simply no breath in her chest left to lose.

"Hey, you okay, babe?" The silver haired man helped Christine to her feet, giving her a warm suggestive smile.

Shocked and wide eyed, Christine backed away as a reflex, trying to regain her composure. "Y – Yes. I'm fine." Backing towards her friend, Christine hung her head, hiding behind her hair.

Madison elbowed her from behind. Almost as if she knew what the other girl was thinking, Christine straightened up and spoke again. "Uh – T – Thank you." She mumbled, not looking him in the eye.

The man smirked a little, a twinkle in his eye. "Welcome, babe." Then he walked past them to the bathroom.

For a moment, the two women seemed shocked into silence, standing tensely right where he'd left them. Flustered, Christine began wringing her hands in front of her, and anxiously biting her lip. It was Madison who gave a quiet cheer and turned on Christine, a bright smile on her face.

"Oh, Christy, this is fate!"

"His hand probably had germs. Probably really gross… or something…"

"Oh, come on!"

Madison quickly dragged her back to their table and sat her down. "This is great!" Giggling, the woman leaned in over the table towards her friend. "Now, listen really closely, I've got a great plan."

"Oh joy." Still nervous, Christine glanced away but indulged her friend by leaning forward.

"This place has a job opening – for pizza delivery."

Christine stared, dumbfounded, already relatively sure she knew where this was going. "You're kidding me."

"Oh, come on, just listen!" Leaping up, she grabbed Christine's arm and pulled her up towards the 'help wanted' sign. "Look, it's really good pay."

Christine rolled her eyes. "It's a pizza joint. 'Good pay' is minimum wage."

Ignoring her, Madison walked up to the counter and gestured for her friend to follow. There, she nodded and gave a greeting to the man behind the register. "Would you mind telling her what you told me." She asked.

The man was a little flustered, but he nodded. "We need another driver, and it really does pay well. Almost 4000$ a month."

Eyes wide, Christine gawked at the man. "4000 a month? Bull!"

"There's a reason." Madison whispered, giggling. She motioned for the man to continue.

"That man you saw – he's Dante, the killer for hirer." Christine turned a little pale at this, but Madison hardly noticed. "He's our highest paying customer. Buys at least 10 a week, and only from here. Usually he doesn't come in like he did today – usually it's delivered."

"This is important how?" Christine wondered.

"He's why the delivery people here are paid so much!" Madison giggled. "There's only one delivery person, and they get paid a lot because –" She left the dramatic pause and let the man finish, biting her lip anticipatorily.

He gulped. "The – the last two delivery people – they died."

Christine blanched, even more pale than before. "No way." She backed away from the counter slowly.

"Killed by Dante's enemies in the crossfire of his battles. Or because they were in his part of town. All by mistake, but since Dante's so important, the company still hires one delivery person – and for that price. Take it or leave it." A woman behind them finished the story as she cleaned tables. Christine looked ready to faint.

"First you want me to go back to college, now you want me to work here? Not just at a pizza store – but as a delivery girl to hell?" She gawked, heart racing.

"This is your chance! There's no way that flirt will let a pretty lady like you die! And this way you get to see him again." Madison giggled.

"Only if I'm not torn to pieces first." Frowning, trying to return her heart beat to normal, Christine shook her head and leaned against the counter. "And who says I want to see him again?"

Just as she spoke those words, the silver haired enigma, Dante, came out of the hallway. His pizzas were waiting for him at the counter; he quickly strode over and paid for his meal. Just like that, her heart was racing double-time and her hands gave a nervous tremble. He walked past them towards the door, glancing over at them.

"Be careful out there. Clumsy little thing like you might get hurt". He joked with a wink.

Realizing the man was making fun of her, Christine felt her nervousness transform into irritation. "I'm not clumsy!" She shouted impulsively. Dante's laughter could be heard even as he left, hoping onto his motorcycle, and with a roar, driving off. Frustrated, Christine ran out after him, calling for him.

"Hey! I said I'm not clumsy!"

Chest heaving, heart beating, her emotions ranging wildly, Christine stood in the dark unsure of what she was doing. Calming herself, she sighed, brushing the sweat off her forehead.

Madison walked out of the store, a smug grin on her face. She'd paid the bill, and in her arms had both her back pack and Christine's. With a smug smile, she passed the bag to her.

"_That's_ why." She insisted. "Somebody like you, who's always so bored and uninterested? We just need to get the fire back in your life. Maybe he can do that."

Christine was maybe, possibly starting to see what she meant. "Dante…" She whispered. "Like the poet who made it all the way through Hell, to Heaven." A smile lit up her face. "And you want me to try and be his Beatrice?"

Madison rolled her eyes. "Annnnd we're back to the literary references. I have no idea what any of that means." Her friend didn't hear her - she was already turning back to enter the building, rushing up to the counter.

"I'll take the job!"

* * *

The museum was empty at this time of night, but for guards and security cameras. Those sorts of things couldn't stop him, not with his power and his abilities.

It wasn't long before he found it; the stone, hidden beneath a glass case, pulsating under the pressure of his aura. It shone a deep red, was smaller than his palm, and rested beneath a description of its creator.

Coveting it, desiring it, he felt the power course through him as he reached for it. It was so close, he could almost touch it...

Suddenly, the red color flashed, and a sharp pain rushed through his hand and up his arm. Gasping he fell back, clutching the injured flesh weakly.

He got the message; he couldn't have it, not yet. In it's present state, no demon could touch it. Only a human could take it from the museum… _only_ a human.

Thoughts clicked in his mind. He'd have to find her… only she would do. It was poetic justice, after all. Slowly, laughter filled the halls of the museum as his plan fell into place.

He would have the stone. The human would take it for him.

He need only wait.


End file.
